


This Love is (Good/Bad/Alive/Back From The Dead)

by katebishoop



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Affection, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Baking, Christmas, Developing Relationship, Domestic Fluff, Drinking, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Forehead Kisses, Formalwear, Friends to Lovers, Halloween, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Mutual Pining, New Year's Eve, Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn, Snowball Fight, Texting, Thanksgiving, Touching, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-05-31 22:37:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 48
Words: 28,200
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6490066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katebishoop/pseuds/katebishoop
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Falling in love with your best friend is as natural as breathing.</p><p>Bellamy and Clarke, one hundred ways to say <a href="http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com/post/142431683899/one-hundred-ways-to-say-i-love-you"> <i>I love you</i></a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. pull over. let me drive for awhile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> August 23rd, 2015

It didn’t hit Bellamy when he was helping Octavia unpack in her new dorm room. It didn’t hit him when they were having their goodbye dinner, or when she hugged him goodbye.

It hadn’t even hit him when he told her: _“You’ll always have a home to come back to, O. You’ll always have a home with me.”_

No, it hits him just as he crosses the Colorado-Kansas state line. Surrounded by vast, empty fields and under an oppressive, pitch-black sky. There’s just the road in front of him, lit by his headlights; it goes on and on, in a straight line, each minute passing and he’s another mile away from his baby sister.

 _My sister, my responsibility._ Octavia, whom he named, and raised. Who was - who _is_ \- his entire world. But now she’s seventeen-hundred miles away, two hours behind him, and he doesn’t know- he doesn’t know what he’s going to do-

Bellamy grips the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles turn white, like the bone is peaking through. He gasps as the lump that’s been building in his throat finally bursts, and the dam breaks, the tears finally coming. His body shakes, slumping in defeat as the sobs rack his body. He furiously wipes at the tears so that he can keep his eyes on the road. On that never-ending empty road that’s making him feel more alone than he ever has.

“Bellamy?”

He wipes at his eyes, and takes a quick glance at Clarke in the passenger’s seat. She’s just woken up, but her eyes are alert and full of concern.

“Hey,” her voice is as soft as the hand she places over his on the wheel. “Pull over. Let me drive for awhile. Okay?”

Bellamy nods, a new stream of tears rolling down his face.

The air is so cool on his face that he gasps at the sensation. At the front of the car, Clarke pulls him into a hug.

“It’s okay, Bell,” Clarke whispers, stroking her fingers through his hair, “she’s going to be alright. You’re going to be alright…”

She holds him like that for a while, in the light of the headlights, as he sobs into her shoulder. It’s been only about three hours, but he already misses Octavia so goddamn much. He feels like he’s mourning her.

Eventually though, they slide back into his truck. Clarke tosses the blanket over him, and turns the radio on down low. It’s Octavia’s roadtrip playlist, which means it’s just all her favorite songs.

“Try to get some sleep.” Clarke says with a small smile. She squeezes his hand before going to restart the engine.

He doesn’t feel quite so alone, anymore. He never was, really.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	2. it reminded me of you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March 24th, 2016

Bellamy hated his job at the campus bookstore. Or, no he didn’t, not really. It was pretty solid; boring, but solid. He was just having a very long, very rough week which cumulated into hating his job.

And since was right in the middle of the semester, barely anyone ever came by, which gave him plenty of time to simmer and brood. It’s Thursday, and since Sunday, he’s gotten maybe eight hours of sleep total. He’s behind on his thirty page paper that’s due next week; he hasn’t seen Clarke in five, hasn’t talked to her in four.

But he’s not counting, really. She’s in the middle of transferring from their school the the art school in the city. Finally decided to shove pre-med and follow her dream. And at least her dream wasn’t like Octavia’s, thousands of miles away; no, hers was just a trek through downtown traffic.

She was still leaving though, and he was already missing her. They still had two more months of this semester, and then three more in the summer before anything really changed. Clarke insisted that everything would be the same - they’d still be best friends, they’d still hang out all the time - but he felt like he was losing her. That she’d leave him behind for bigger and better things; not leave him behind really, but just reach new heights that he’d never be able to reach.

He’s being irrational, he knows. Clarke would never leave him. But she was. But she _wasn’t-_

He’d grown attached to someone who wasn’t Octavia, which was unexpected. Letting Octavia go was expected, he knew he’d have to step back so she could be her own person eventually. But Clarke? Everything was unexpected, and he doesn’t know how to deal with that.

He worked himself into quite a fuss by the time his shift was over. His boss even commenting on the wrinkles Bellamy had managed to etch into his face. He wanted nothing more than to collapse onto his shitty dorm bed, in his shitty dorm, and get some not-so-shitty and much needed sleep. He’d take a nap, grab some dinner, chug a lot of coffee, work on his paper, and _maybe_ get another forty or so minutes of sleep before his next class at ten the next morning. It was his only Friday class, and then he would be free. It would be the weekend, where he could sleep until two in the afternoon, catch up on his shit, and try to hang out with Clarke. And the rest of their friends. Yeah.

Bellamy entered his dorm and threw down his bag without even bothering to turn off the lights. He toed off his shoes and flung himself on the bed.

He yelped when something smacked into his chest, sharp and hard. Bellamy grumbled, furious, as he scrambled to turn on the desk lamp.

The object that had pierced him was a cardboard box, that belonged to a mug with an Ancient Greek art design printed on it. Taped to the box was a note. Bellamy wiped his glasses off on his shirt so he could read it better.

_I saw this today when I was coming back from my interview. It reminded me of you._

_\- Clarke_

_p.s. BvS tomorrow night?? I tolerate your nerd things so you have to tolerate mine._

Bellamy wouldn’t have been able to stop the big grin that spread across his face even if he wanted to. It was a stupidly big, stupidly giddy grin. Because Clarke was thinking about him, and Bellamy was pathetic, this little bit of reassure meaning so much.

He pinned the note to his bulletin board and set the mug box carefully on his messy desk. Which really, he should clean it. It’s such a disaster that that’s probably why Clarke put it on his bed in the first place.

He flicked off the lamp and pulled out his phone, squinting painfully at the harsh light in his eyes.

 **Me:** so who am i supposed to root for?

The little typing bubble appears immediately. He knows for a fact that she’s in class right now. Anatomy, but she’s already elected not to care.

 **Clarke:** neither. the Power of Friendship™ will prevail

 **Me:** i’m going to root for mark zuckerberg

 **Clarke:** 1) u dont even have a fb dont b a fake fb gurl

 **Clarke:** 2) lex luthor is unredeemable. he took forty cakes. that’s as many as four tens.

 **Clarke:** and that’s terrible

 **Me:** wow that is evil

 **Clarke:** the Evilest™

 **Clarke:** you know what else is evil?

 **Clarke:** sleep deprivation

 **Clarke:** go take your nap, you old man

 **Me:** thanks. what would I ever do without you?

He watched the typing bubble with his lip between his teeth. He was afraid of the answer to that question, in both her answer and in practice.

 **Clarke:** that’s the Power of Friendship™ for you

 **Me:** you really like the ™ don't you

 **Clarke:** You Betcha™

 **Clarke:** seriously tho. go the fuck to sleep. i’ll see you tomorrow

Bellamy set and alarm and put his phone away. He knew if he responded to her, they’d just keep going on and on in circles. Clarke always has to have the last word.

Besides, now he could finally sleep with the promise of _i’ll see you tomorrow_ warming him like a blanket.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am I going to change POVs? yes. Am I going to attempt to have all these be in the same universe? also yes. Will I probably fail? only time will tell. lots of time. there are a hundred of these, yo.
> 
> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	3. no, no, it's my treat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March 25th, 2016

Clarke was practically bouncing with excitement outside the theater. She’s been waiting for this movie forever, and she hasn’t seen Bellamy in even longer.

She’s exaggerating, sure, but it had  _felt_  like forever.

She spots him crossing the street. His hair’s all windswept, his glasses are askew, his shirt’s so wrinkly, he probably pulled it out off the hamper. He’s got a slightly grumpy expression on, but when he spots her, it fades into a big smile, his eyes lighting up.

She throws herself at him, enveloping him in a tackle hug that causes him to stumble at first, but his arms come around her, strong and familiar.

He laughs into her hair. Clarke breathes him in: he smells like the dusty archives of the library, musty like his men’s deodorant, and it’s just positively _Bellamy_.

“Your status as my favorite has gone up,” Clarke says, pulling back just enough so that she can look up at him. That smudge on his left lens is still there, as expected. He always grabs his glasses by the lens, hastily smearing the fingerprint away and making a bigger mess. “You’re the only one who would come see this movie with me.”

“I thought Monty and Jasper liked this stuff?”

“Jasper’s only interested in Marvel,” Clarke rolls her eyes. She likes Marvel too, but she will fight Jasper everytime he praises Joss Whedon. “And Monty’s only interest right now is Miller, and he was busy.”

“Ah,” Bellamy nods, and pulls out of the hug so he can check his watch. “You have about twenty minutes to explain to me all the backstory I need know.”

“I’ll give you the Sparknotes version, but fair warning, it’s not as satisfying.”

“I doubt it’ll be concise, either.”

Her father had a comic book collection that he shared with her long before he died. He had Marvel and DC and even Archie. She’s loves all of them, but Superman had been her father’s favorite, and so he became her’s too. Besides, DC had much better cartoons when she was growing up, so all the characters hold a special place in her heart.

She’s got high hopes for this movie, even though she hadn’t wanted too. She has very, very mixed feelings about Man of Steel, but. Wonder Woman’s in it, and critics are yelling how this movie isn’t _Marvel enough_. And yeah, that kinda sold her.

Their in the concession line now. She’s got a little off track in her backstory, because she mentioned Frank Miller and now she wants to fight something, but. This is important information. Bellamy needs to know how much of a douche Frank Miller is. Anyone who refers to their own dick as a beef needle is seriously, Grade A Douchebag.

She’s so excited she splurged a little on the snacks. It’s a capitalist trick to offer a cheap, plastic souvenir popcorn bucket with her heroes on it but Clarke could not care less today. Today she’d enjoy the capitalist machine. She’s earned that.

She’s pulling out her wallet when Bellamy places a hand over hers.

“No, no, it’s my treat,” Bellamy says, pulling out his own wallet.

“Bellamy.” Clarke’s pretty stunned because Bellamy hates overpriced food. He never gets anything on pure principle, and she shares anyway, so. “I got it, it’s fine. I’m the one dragging you to-”

“You never drag me anywhere,” Bellamy says, with a fond smile and a shake of his head. “Now, just - just let me get this? I want to.”

Clarke eyes him suspiciously, but she slips her own wallet back into her bag. “Okay. Thanks.”

He puts his free arm around her to give her a side hug, and she melts into him immediately. “Don’t mention it.” He says, handing his card over to the clerk. “Seriously - don’t. I don’t want Miller whining on how I never spoil him.”

Clarke laughs, and tosses some of the popcorn into her mouth. She gets a free refill since they got the biggest size, and she’s damn sure she’s going to get it.

“Your secret’s safe with me.”

“Yeah, well,” Bellamy takes a handful of popcorn for himself, his neck words coming out muffled around it. “We need to hurry up. I want a seat with the bar so I can put my feet up.”

“Let me guess it’s better for your back?” When he blushes, Clarke throws her head back and practically cackles. “Wow, you really are an old man.”

“Shut up,” Bellamy pouts, “Or I won’t go see the next one with you.”

“The next one’s Wonder Woman, and it dabbles in mythology, so that’s pretty much an empty threat.”

Clarke takes his hand, her sticky fingers covering his, and pulls him down the hall towards their theater. Even if the movie turns out to be a flop, she’s still going to enjoy it, snuggled up next to Bellamy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Batman v Superman is a great movie go see it. I have no shame go see it.
> 
> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	4. come here. let me fix it

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> April 15th, 2016

Bellamy hated suits. Bellamy also hated rich people, " _fundraisers_ ," and any building that had doormen.

But it was Clarke’s mother’s hospital’s trustee fundraiser or whatever that night, and as much as he hated those things, Clarke hated them more - but  _she_ was the one required to be there. So they could suffer together at least, and in being together, suffer slightly less.

He hadn’t realized until then just how often he offers to go to these things with her. She has a suit in her closet that’s specifically for _him_ for these exact occasions. It’s kinda weird, but it also gives him this nice warm feeling in his chest.

Still, he hates suits. But the one thing he hate more than suits? Bowties.

Apparently, clip ons weren’t in code for these types of events. This one was apparently so fancy that he couldn’t even wear a regular tie.

And well, he certainly tied it _like_ a bow.

He heard a laugh behind him, and turned to find Clarke leaning against the doorframe. She’s wearing a floor length sleeveless navy blue dress. It’s got a high neckline with a keyhole cut out. He’s floored every time they go to one of these things, of how beautiful she is.

“Come here.” Clarke sighs fondly, squeezing past him in the bathroom, and motioning him to sit down on the lid of the toilet. “Let me fix it.”

Bellamy sighed, a bit over dramatically, but he did as he was told. Even though he was sitting, Clarke still had to duck down a bit to be at eye level with his tie.

She was so close, that he was acutely aware of his breathing, not to breathe too heavily because her face was _right there_. Her face mere inches from his. Her touch was sticking out just a bit in concentration, her eyebrows furrowing as she focused on the task at hand, her nimble fingers dancing close to and brushing his neck.

Her hair smelled like strawberries. He never really liked the taste of them before, but suddenly he was craving them.

“Did you put gel in your hair too?” Clarke asks, giving the bowtie one final tug.

“No,” Bellamy says, but Clarke’s hand is in his hair anyway, and it sends a pleasant tingle across his scalp. “I just stole some of your hairspray.”

Clarke hums in acknowledgement, her fingers working it out. Bellamy can’t stop himself from leaning up into her touch.

“Thanks again for doing this,” Clarke says, for maybe the millionth time, “I know how much you hate these.”

“I get free food and get to make fun of rich assholes with you,” Bellamy says, “what’s there not to love?”

“Well, when you put it that way…” Clarke’s fingers twist into the back of his curls for a brief moment, and then she seems to remember herself, her hand falling away. “We better get going. The sooner we get there, the sooner we can leave.”

Bellamy stands up, brushing some lint off the tux with the back of his hand. “They better have a chocolate fountain. I liked that last time.”

Clarke rolls her eyes at him before heading out of the bathroom. Bellamy just watches her for a moment, her blonde waves swishing across her bare back as she walks away.

Yeah, she was beautiful, alright. But she didn't have to put on a dress for him to see that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	5. i'll walk you home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May 29th, 2016

“Another round,” Clarke asks the bartender, setting the tray of empty shot glasses down on the bar.

Dropship, her and her friend’s usual haunt, was packed far more than usual. It’s Memorial Day weekend, the tourist crowd coming out and being loud. It was just tolerable. Just.

A hand taps her on the shoulder, and for a second she thinks it’s the bartender, but that wouldn’t make sense-

“Lexa.” Clarke blurts out, dumbstruck, when she sees who it is. “What are you doing here?”

Lexa, her ex-girlfriend, who had consumed her entire life for a semester. Who came in like a hurricane and left destruction and heartache in her wake. Who caused Clarke to isolate herself from her friends, to forget herself. Who, Clarke felt in retrospect, had brought out the worst in herself. And then, just when she was feeling _right_ in their relationship, when she felt truly in _love_ , Lexa packs and things and leaves, with barely an explanation.

Lexa, who she never expected to - or wanted to, really - see again.

Lexa, who doesn’t seem to notice - or if she does, doesn’t care about - Clarke’s discomfort.

“Some friends and I decided to come up for the weekend, a vacation,” Lexa says, and her voice brings Clarke back to her sopohmore year, when things were starting out. “I was hoping to find you here.”

Lexa’s hand trails down Clarke’s arm, and she feels a shiver race down her spine.

“I’m considering some jobs in the area,” Lexa goes on, “It would be nice to…”

The bartender is her lifesaver right now, who comes up then with her round.

“I should get back to my friends,” Clarke says, grabbing the tray so quickly that the shots slosh a little.

Lexa narrows her eyes. She never liked Clarke’s friends, and that should have been her first red flag.

“Well, maybe some other time-”

“Yeah, no,” Clarke’s tone is clipped and short, and then she’s pushing off back into the crowd.

Raven and Miller cheer when they spot her, far drunker than she is. Clarke doesn’t even remember what they are supposed to be celebrating, and she doubts that they do either.

“It took you long enough,” Raven says, before downing two shots, one right after the other. Raven’s a shot taking machine. Her organs are probably fried.

“Hey,” Bellamy says, bringing a hand to the small of her back, “What’s wrong? You look live you’ve seen a ghost.”

Her distress must be clear on her face, but she’s glad the rest of her friends are too preoccupied to notice. She wishes Bellamy was too, but nothing ever really gets past him.

Clarke bites her lip, and Bellamy looks past her towards the bar. She can tell the exact moment that he spots Lexa, his eyebrows furrowing. Lexa and Bellamy have exchanged two, maybe three words, but they loathe the very sight of each other.

“Clarke.”

“I’m fine really,” Clarke says, grabbing her coat from where it had fell from under the table and shrugging it out. “But I think I’m going to head out, I’m not really feeling-”

“I’ll walk you home.” Bellamy says, standing up.

Their friends jeer at them - calls of being party poopers and senior citizens following them as they leave the bar.

“Are you alright?” Bellamy asks, once they’ve crossed the street. The night air is warm, but Clarke shivers a little anyway. Her and Raven’s apartment isn’t too far away, which is nice. All she wants to do is curl up in a big pile of blankets right now.

She hates how Lexa can just show up out of nowhere, say barely three sentences, and still have this effect on her.

“Yeah,” Clarke says as she lets out a deep breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. “Just surprised me, is all.”

Bellamy’s arm comes around her waist as they walk, and she leans into his side. His fingers trace circles onto her hips.

“If you need anything, just let me know, okay?” Bellamy says, when they’ve got to the front door of her building.

“Thanks, Bell,” she says says, wiping a tear from her eye that’s due to her sudden exhaustion more than anything. “I think I’ll be good. I just need some time to myself.”

Bellamy opens his mouth, and then closes it again. She knows what he’s thinking: about when she had closed herself off, about what all the fallout with Lexa had done to her. But she’s better now, and he knows that too.

“Well, I’m going to go back and make sure none of our friends have started a fight,” Bellamy says, “Seriously though - call me if you need anything, I don’t care if it’s three in the morning-”

“Goodnight, Bellamy,” Clarke says, a fond and a bit exasperated smile forming on her face.

Bellamy lets out a deep breath. “Yeah, okay.” He reaches out and gives her a hug, and she relishes in his warmth, his presence, that’s gone too quickly. “‘Night, Clarke.”

He doesn’t leave though, until Clarke’s in her apartment, leaning out the window to wave to him.

“Anything at all!” He calls one more time, as he walks backwards down the street.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	6. have a good day at work

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> July 5th, 2016

Bellamy had never hated the sound of his alarm more than he did right now.

He’s actually surprised it even went off - that his phone still had battery, that it was in his pocket at all, that he hadn’t lost it in some of the chaos that went on last night. Especially, since he woke up on the floor in the hallway of the house he shared with Miller and Murphy, and his sister when she was home for the summer.

He pried himself off the floor, groaning. That certainly wouldn’t be good for his back, or his case that he wasn’t ancient.  And the place was a mess: beer cans and little American flags littering the ground, and everything smelt faintly burnt. But hey, that was the Fourth of July for you. Freedom to liter and break anti-fireworks laws.

And since it was on Monday this year, the next day wasn’t a federal holiday. Which meant that Bellamy had to go into work. He love his job at the library, but not today. Not when his back ached and we was hungover and when the rest of his friends got to sleep in.

The door to his room was ajar, and when he crept inside, he found Monroe, Harper, and Octavia asleep in a pile on his bed. He didn’t bother with a shower, not wanting to wake them and not wanting to put in the effort. He just grabbed a clean shirt and his deodorant, and slipped back out of the room.

Monty and Miller were passed out like logs in Miller’s own bed, Bellamy saw as he passed their room. He could even spot Murphy sleeping in the bathtub past them. Which - Murphy had his own room, but maybe he just couldn’t handle any more stairs to the attic.

The stairs creaked under him, the only sound in the otherwise silent house. The last time he remembers checking the time, it was four in the morning. It was eight now. Great.

The living room was even more chaotic. There weren’t just beer cans everywhere, but beercan _swords_. Bellamy doesn’t even remember those from last night. There’s also tons of chips bags, used poppers and confetti, a stuffed animal of a bald eagle with sunglasses duct taped to it… They don’t have a dart board, but there’s still a picture of Donald Drumpf on the wall with darts sticking out of it, which will no doubt will leave holes that will require spackle.

But clean up would be Miller and Murphy’s problem. He hoped so, at least.

Passed out on the couch by the front door was Clarke, and passed out on top of her was Raven. There blanket the American flag that Raven had been using as a cape the night before.

He tipped toed around the mess towards the door. There, he carefully pulled his keys off the hook, but there was nothing he could do to stop the little Lego Luke Skywalker keychain from jingling.

“Have a good day at work.” Bellamy froze, key mid turn in the lock. Clarke was looking up at him with droopy eyes, a dreamy smile on her face.

Bellamy smiled and ran his fingers gently over her hair. Clarke yawned, high and cute like a kitten, and snuggled in the direction of his hand. She was back to sleep so quickly that she probably wouldn’t even remember it when she woke up.

Bellamy took one last glance at Clarke - a content smile on her face, a stray lock of hair in her face gently rising and falling with her breathing - before heading out the door.

He’d remember though, and that’d be enough to get him through this hell of a day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	7. i dreamt about you last night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> July 13th, 2016

Clarke ripped another page out of her sketchbook. She crumpled it up and tossed it in the mountain of other torn pages in the corner.

She was in a slump, or a big fucking ditch that she couldn’t get herself out of. Nothing she drew felt _right_ \- lines going in the wrong directions, shapes not flowing. Her pictures just felt flat and empty and generic.

She took a deep breath, and tried again. Her pen had barely touched the page though and she was already ripping it out and tearing it apart, shreds of paper getting everywhere. Her metaphorical foaming at the mouth.

“Hey,” Bellamy said, poking his  head into the room. She couldn’t her own studio space in the summer, so she just took one of the private study rooms at the public library where Bellamy worked. “Someone came up to the information desk - they said they thought they heard someone getting murdered?”

Clarke sighed and slumped back against the wall. She was on the floor, surrounded by her failures. She felt like she was being murdered.

Bellamy sat down next to her, their shoulders just brushing. He rested his arms on his knees, looking around the room. He didn’t say anything for a while, he just sat there, a warm presence, and Clarke felt her heart rate begin to return to a steady pace. Bellamy could have that effect on people; he definitely had that on her.

“I dreamt about you last night.” He says, so nonchalantly, that Clarke almost thinks she heard him wrong.

He’s looking at her like what he said is completely normal, and should be no reason for a flush to creep up Clarke’s cheeks.

“I dreamt that you and me were all dressed up - but not for some stuffy gala or whatever,” Bellamy waves his hand in dismissal, “and so were all our friends. And do you want to know where we were?”

Clarke just blinks at him.

“I dreamt that we were attending your art show.” Bellamy says, not looking away from her, his eyes intent and boring into hers. “I dreamt that we were celebrating, surrounded by walls filled with _your_ art.”

“So, I know you’re feeling discouraged right now,” Bellamy continued when she didn’t say anything. “But I also know that you’ve got this, Clarke. You’re an artist. You’ll get yourself to where you want to be.”

Bellamy leaned over and pressed a kiss into her hair, his lips lingering. Clarke closed her eyes, savoring the feeling for as long as she could.

“And stop killing trees, okay?” Bellamy said, as he stood up and made his way to the door. “We’re trying to go green here.”

A about ten minutes after he had shut the door, her pen was flying across the page. She’d capture every detail of him: of the way his curls fell into his eyes, of the way his legs fell when he was sitting down, the scar on his upper lip that quirked upward along with the corner of his mouth, the scattered pattern of his freckles.

She’d breathe him onto the page, perfect from memory, like was still in the room.

She was going to make Bellamy’s, and her own, dream a reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	8. take my seat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> July 16th, 2016

“Sorry I’m late,” Bellamy says, as he approached the booth his friends were at.

They were at the largest one in the whole diner, and yet they were still overflowing from it, Jasper and Maya having to pull up chairs at the end. There wasn’t really any space for him to do the same.

“Take my seat.” Clarke says, like she was reading his mind.

“Hey, no it’s- I can figure something out-”

Clarke’s already getting up though, yanking him by the arm over to her and guiding him down into the seat. “I’ve already done that. You sit here, and I sit on Raven.”

“Hey!” Raven says as Clarke plops herself down onto her lap at the other end of the booth. Despite her protests, Raven’s arms snaked around Clarke’s waist to keep her steady

“You sleep on me, I sit on you.” Clarke picks up a menu and flicked through it. “Now are we splitting a chocolate or a strawberry milkshake?”

Despite being late - the quality of public transportation seems to just tank during the summer, the desire to just do nothing creeping up on the busses as well - he’s swept up into the conversation easily.

It’s a miracle that everyone’s plates fit on the table when the food arrives - then again, Clarke does have to hold hers, and everyone’s drinks are on the window ledge behind them.

Across from him, Raven tugs on Clarke’s hair to bring her down so that she could whisper in her ear. A blush creeps onto Clarke’s face, and then her wide eyes glance at him and she goes beet red. She then quickly turns back to her food.

When Raven catches him watching, she wiggles her eyebrows suggestively at him, jerking her head up at Clarke.

Bellamy’s blushing now too, and he doesn’t even know _why_. He can read Clarke like a book, but Raven he stopped trying to figure out a long time ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this was the first prompt of these to give me trouble wow rude which is why it's so short :)
> 
> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	9. i saved a piece for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> July 22nd, 2016

The door to Jasper and Monty’s is locked when he gets there, which is weird. They never lock their door - and he’s pretty sure that Jasper doesn’t even carry around a key. It’s too loud for his insistent knocking to be heard, so he shoots a quick text off into the group chat asking to be let in.

It’s Clarke who answers the door. Her hairs done up in a messy bun, and she’s got paint on her face, which isn’t new, but. This is Jasper’s birthday party - so he knows the paint is there for an entirely different reason.

“You should just carpool with me from now on,” Clarke says, smirking up at him, “you’re always late to everything now.”

“I try,” Bellamy says, following her inside, “Where is everyone?”

Clarke groans, and waves in the direction of Jasper’s room. “They’re in there. Jasper wanted to do the balloon and darting painting from the Princess Diaries? Something about getting that off his bucket list before he - and I quote - _crumbles to dust from old age_.”

“Jasper knows that he’s the youngest of all of us, right?”

“That just means the rest of us are partying from our deathbeds, then,” Clarke shrugs, “But seriously - be glad you don’t have to go in there. It’s a disaster. I’ve never seen so much paint - _wasted_.”

Clarke looks very distressed, like this misuse of paint is the equivalent of someone kicking a puppy.

Bellamy’s stomach rumbles - he hadn’t realized he was hungry, but then again, he hadn’t ate anything since his lunch break which was hours ago.

“Please tell me I didn’t miss the cake?” He asks as he wanders into the kitchen. Jasper and Monty’s fridge was notoriously devoid of edible things, instead being full of moonshine ingredients and actual _edibles_ \- and Bellamy really didn’t think getting high would solve his hunger problem.

“I saved a piece for you.” Clarke says, opening the bread box to reveal a slice covered in plastic wrap. “I had to hide it, Miller was eyeing it-”

Bellamy wraps her up in his arms in a big hug that lifts her off the ground. “You’re the best, Clarke.”

“Can’t-” Clarke coughs out, “ _breathe._ ”

Bellamy sets her down quickly, and Clarke takes a deep breath. Her face is flushed, a rosy shade of pink that matches the frosting of the cake.

“I’m going to check on them,” Clarke says, still a little out of breath, one hand of her’s fanning her face.

Bellamy leans down and presses a kiss onto her forehead. He thinks he may of have got paint on his face, but oh well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	10. i'm sorry for your loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> August 9th, 2016

After her father’s funeral, Clarke had never wanted to attend one again. She didn’t want to wear all black, she didn’t want to be surrounded by people she barely knew, that the deceased barely knew. She didn’t want to be apart of some ceremony that felt more like a sham than anything.

Mostly though, she just didn’t want anyone else to die.

She had never imagined….

They hadn’t been as close as they were when they were children, and they hadn’t even seen each other in since he had come home for Thanksgiving, but still.

She couldn’t imagine a world without Wells.

He’d been on the other side of the world, in the middle of a warzone doing humanitarian work, for months. Then he comes home and gets stabbed outside of bar he was just walking past.

Clarke had accepted a long time ago that life wasn’t fair, but this was just a new level of cruelty.

A strong hand comes up to the small of her back, and Clarke leans back into it. None of her friends had known Wells personally, their interactions limited to them passing by while she was skyping him. But they knew about him, and how much Clarke loved him.

They knew she couldn’t face this alone.

Bellamy had offered to drive her without a word. He just packed a bag for himself, and even hers since she was too caught up in grief to really do much. He didn’t even mind the long drive, or that she didn’t even talk to him, electing to either sleep or gaze out the window. He was her rock.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

She knows that those words are genuine, coming from him. He knows loss just as well as she does, like the back of his hand. He didn’t have to know Wells to know how much he meant to Clarke.

She didn’t cry when she found out. She didn’t cry when her mother hugged her, or when she went inside Wells’ childhood room and found the picture of them from their kiddie co-ed soccer team framed on his nightstand. She didn’t cry during the funeral, or when Thelonious broke down during the eulogy, she didn’t cry during the procession, or when they lowered his coffin into the ground.

But here, standing in front of his grave, in front of a six foot deep hole with his body at the body, she does.

Bellamy’s arms come around her, and she burrows her face into his shirt. She’s no doubt ruining his shirt, but Bellamy just keeps her there, stroking the back of her hair, whispering things that feel comforting, despite her not being able to hear them over the sound of her sobbing.

Clarke never wants to attend of funeral again - she doesn’t want to have to. She wouldn’t be able to take it. She pictures her friends - Raven and Octavia and Monty and Miller and Jasper and Monroe and Harper and Maya and Murphy - and cries harder. The sheer thought that this could one day be any of them is just-

Thinking about Bellamy like that has got her gasping for air.

“Hey, Clarke, shh,” Bellamy pulls back slightly so he can cup her face and look at her. “Breathe with me, okay? In… out… in… out...”

He doesn’t break eye contact - his warm brown eyes providing a constant, something for her to lock onto, something for her to ground her.

“You’re doing good, Clarke,” Bellamy says as her breathing gets more even, his thumbs rubbing circles into her tearstained cheeks. “I’ve got you…”

“I can’t lose you too,” Clarke says, burrowing her face back into his shirt. “I _can’t_.”

“You won’t,” Bellamy says, swaying slightly, his hands arms coming around her and holding her tightly. “I’m not going anywhere, Clarke.”

She wants desperately to believe that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	11. you can have half

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> August 29th, 2016

“Life sucks.” Clarke says, plopping down on Bellamy’s couch next to him. “I thought art school professors would, oh I don’t know, be good at art?”

Bellamy snorts, and pauses the TV. It’s so not fair that  doesn’t start classes again for another week, and that he can just be a couch potato and binge watch historical miniseries. He’s living the dream right now.

“Let me guess - he didn’t like the way you _held your brush_.”

“Actually, yes,” Clarke deadpans, and Bellamy’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “He just hovers over everyone - micromanaging every single fucking detail.”

When she first had walked into Dante Wallace’s studio, she expected not to like him that much. Clarke just generally doesn’t get along with straight, white, old men, but he seemed normal enough during his introduction. He smelled though, like decay, or like he’d been locked in a room with stale air for a century.

But then they began painting, and Clarke wanted to scream.

If everything wasn’t one-hundred percent his way, he’d flip. He even told her that there was no emotion behind the piece she was working on. The piece that was inspired by Wells.

There’s a fuckton of emotion behind that, asshole.

“I just want to curl up and simmer in hatred,” Clarke says, breathing out a heavy sigh, “to keep myself from committing murder, you know.”

Bellamy rolls his eyes at her, and then lifts up the blanket he’s cocooned in so she has an opening. “You can have _half_.”

Clarke grins, and slides over on the couch to fit into the crook of his arm, tugging the blanket down over her. She’ll never pass up an opportunity to cuddle with Bellamy. She’s just glad that no one else is around, or it get back to Raven and Clarke would never hear the end of it.

“Chinese food later?” Clarke asks as he unpauses the TV.

Bellamy rests his cheek against her head. “You’re buying the egg rolls, though.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	12. take my jacket, it's cold outside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> September 10th, 2016

“I need some air,” Clarke says, pushing herself off of the floor.

It’s the first time all of them have been able to get together since classes started back up again. Clarke has no idea how they all ended up in a pile on the floor - limbs tangled, heads pillowed on one another - when there were couches and chairs right behind them, but.

“Take my jacket,” Bellamy says, squirming on the ground to get it off, dislodging Murphy, who was lying over his legs. “It’s cold outside.”

“I’ll be _fiiiine_ ,” Clarke waves him off. It’s still technically summer, so yeah, really, she’d be fine.

But within five minutes of sitting on the back porch, she’s shivering. _It’s still_ _technically_ _summer_ , what the actual fuck.

And within another minute of her freezing her ass off, her teeth chattering and goosebumps prickling on her arms, Bellamy’s come up behind her and drapes his jacket over his shoulders.

“Told you so,” Bellamy says, as he sits down on the step next to her.

“This is bullshit.” His jacket always warm, just like Bellamy is, and her shivering lessens immediately. It smells like him, too. “I call foul.”

Bellamy laughs softly, shaking his head. He didn’t drink a lot tonight, just enough to ease the tension in his shoulders. “I’ll let Gaea know.”

They sit in comfortable silence for a while, the muffled sounds of their friends wafting over them from the other side of the screen door. But then Bellamy shifts, leaning forward so that his elbows are resting on his knees, his head turned to look at her.

“I’m here, you know, if you need me,” Bellamy’s voice is lower. That tone he gets when he’s serious, when he’s trying to get someone to understand something. But it’s still soft, welcoming, comforting.

Clarke hums, and leans forward so that her head is resting on the back of his shoulder. “I know, Bell.”

And yeah, she does know. It’s been a rough month, but she’s healing the best she can. He’s been there with her every step of the way: always there when she needed him, and always giving her space when she needed that. He had helped her in ways he didn’t even know about. His presence a reminder, a comforting reminder that he was still there, that something hadn’t happened to him too.

Bellamy maneuvers his arm out from under her to put around her shoulders, and she slides into the crook of his arm. He’s a human furnace, he’s the feeling of curling up in front of the fireplace. She doesn’t even need the jacket, if she’s got him. And she does got him, whenever she needs him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	13. sorry i'm late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> September 24th, 2016

Bellamy texted Clarke a picture of her apartment to let her know that he was there.

He sat in Miller’s car, engine off but radio still on. Miller had let him borrow the car for the evening, since public transportation in formal wear was never a good thing. It was Bellamy’s turn to drag Clarke out to some fancy event. This wasn’t some fundraiser though, it was an awards dinner for the history department, and Bellamy was being honored along with several others that night.

That wasn’t what had him excited though - he felt a little surge of pride at the honor, but at the end of the day that was just a piece of paper - what had him excited though, was getting to see Clarke in another fancy dress.

She was so…

Bellamy jumped as the passenger door opened.

“Sorry I’m late.” Clarke was saying before he even registered that it was her and some carjacker.

Her hair braided, wrapped around her head like a golden crown. Her dress was a deep purple tonight, sleeveless, with a sweetheart neckline.

He took a glance at his watch. He wasn’t fully recovered from her yet, but he needed something to do other than gape at her like an idiot. “I was early, so you’re actually right on time.

“I _feel_ late,” Clarke said. She was squirming in the seat next to him. “This is a big deal, Bellamy.”

Bellamy started the car and pulled away from the curb. “You what else is a big deal? There’s apparently going to be a chocolate fountain.”

Clarke slapped his arm playfully. “You’re getting an award, I think that’s a little more exciting.”

“Yeah, and I am being _awarded_ melted chocolate.”

Clarke sighed and pulled out her phone. She snapped a picture of him, and thankfully they were at a red light, because the flash blinded him.

“Hey!” Bellamy blinked past the colors dancing in his vision until Clarke appeared again. “What was that for?”

“Octavia,” Clarke said, typing away at her phone. “She wants me to send her updates, since she can’t be here.”

“Oh,” Bellamy said. He felt a warm feeling spread through his chest. He had mentioned the dinner to his sister last time they skyped, and she had called him a nerd. Pretty standard stuff.

“She’s proud of you,” Clarke said, putting her phone down in her lap. She reached over and put her hand on top of his. “I’m _proud_ of you.”

Clarke’s eyes were intent on his, and it nearly brought him to tears. After all the fuck ups in his life, hearing her reassure him that his sister is proud of him, that she is, well.

This was definitely what he’d been looking forward to - just, _Clarke_.

“Bellamy.”

Bellamy jumped out of his daze. “What? Um-”

“The light’s green,” Clarke said, a small amused smile on her face as she pulled her hand back and settled into the seat.

“Oh, right,” Bellamy slammed on the gas pedal, shooting off quickly and jerkily.

"Take it easy." Clarke laughed, and Bellamy wasn't even going to retort. His brain was still spinning, and he needed every part that wasn't to pay attention to the road.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONE MORE HOUR I'M SCREAMING
> 
> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	14. can i have this dance?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 1st, 2016

A laugh bubbled up in Bellamy’s throat. He just felt so _giddy_. He got an award for - God he didn’t even remember at this point, but he got to share that moment with Clarke and even his sister, who was thousands of miles away, when Clarke had faced timed in.

Now he and Clarke were sitting on the hood of Miller’s car in the driveway. It was just after midnight; the street was asleep. It was there own little world, their private moment to be alone despite being in a city of thousands.

Clarke had snuck a whole bottle of champagne out of the event, and they took turns taking swigs from it, laughing and remembering and smiling, until it was empty and they chucked it somewhere in the grass along with both of their pairs of shoes.

He felt warm, and light, and bright, and wild, and free. Like he was floating, flying, walking on air. Something went _right_.

He’s trying to point out the constellations in the sky, but even just outside the city it’s still to bright to see much. There’s orion’s belt like always, and Ursa Major. His hand is wobbly though, his whole body fuzzy and flowy, and he’s not really pointing at anything.

Clarke’s listening intently though, _hmmmmming_ in acknowledgment as she takes her hair down. Her arms reaching back at an awkward angle, bobby pins slipped onto the straps on her dress so she doesn’t lose them.

Her _hmmmmming_ turns into straight up humming, a tune that Bellamy vaguely recognizes. He doesn’t remember the name, or the words, but he knows the feeling it’s giving off. The feeling of freedom, of speeding down a dirt road, top down, arms in the air, wind in the hair…

Clarke undid the last of her braids, her hair fanning out around her in golden waves. Bellamy couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and running his fingers through it. It was softer than silk - the feeling beneath his fingertips the best thing he’s ever felt in his life.

Clarke hopped off the hood of the car, and Bellamy almost whined as her hair slipped from his grasp.

“Can I have this dance?” She asked, holding out her hand to him. It didn’t matter that there was no music, they just needed the sounds of Clarke’s humming and their heartbeats.

She pulled him up, and he wobbled a bit, but Clarke is there to steady him. She always is.

She’s still humming that upbeat song, and they move to it, little bouncy, jerky movements, worse dance moves than middle schoolers at the halloween dance. One of his hands holds onto her waist, fingers pressing firmly into her back, his other hand grasped tightly in his.

Clarke’s humming slows though, and so do they. She pillowed her head on his chest, and the hand at her waist found its way back into her hair.

In this moment, time stood still. It was just the two of them, holding each other, swaying slightly, in the dead of night, illuminated by the hazy glow of the streetlamps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that episode tho... my crops are flourishing... my skin is clear... my gpa is solid...
> 
> (btw this is the [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FmUw1MmIYvU) i was thinking of for clarke's humming)
> 
> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	15. i made your favorite

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 1st, 2016

Clarke groans as the sunshine peeking out from the open curtains hit her eyelids. She didn’t know what time it was, but whatever it was, it was too damn early. She snuggles deeper into the blankets, pulling them over her head.

She’s hit with musky smell of them, the smell that’s positively Bellamy.

She remembers the ceremony, and she remembers dancing with him in the driveway, and she remembers feeling invincible, but she doesn’t remember anything after.

She’s in his bed, still in her dress from last night, and he’s nowhere to be found. Begrudgingly, she pries herself up off the bed. There’s a half-full glass of water and an aspirin on the nightstand. She drinks the rest of the water, but forgoes on the pill. She feels groggy, but not hungover, not really. She was more drunk off life that she was the champagne last night.

Clarke peels off her dress. There’s a hard red line of the zipper pressed into her skin. She pulls on one of Bellamy’s old t-shirts, threadbare with a stain over the heart, and a pair of his sweatpants. She has to pull the drawstring tight and fold them over a few times to get them to stay up.

When she gets to the bottom of the stairs and has rubbed the last bit of sleep from her eyes, she sees the couch. There’s a pillow on it, and two thin throw blankets. Clarke shakes her head. Of course he would have taken the couch.

She wanders into the kitchen. Bellamy’s at the stove; he’s wearing nothing but a thin white t-shirt and plaid boxers.  She’s seen him in even less, in even tighter, more revealing clothing, but this… it’s so domestic, it’s so… it’s such a good look on him, so Bellamy that it sends a flush up across her cheeks.

She doesn’t let her presence be known until she’s sure it’s under control.

“Hey,” Bellamy greets her, smile bright. He gives her a once over, looking at his clothes on her, and she swears for a moment that she sees _him_ blush. But she’s still drowsy; her mind could be playing tricks on her. “I made your favorite.”

Clarke wonders over and peers at what he’s doing. He’s got a stack of chocolate chip pancakes next to the stove, another one sizzling on the pan. They’re shaped like stars; she’s always been impressed on how he could do that, she can barely even get hers to come out like circles.

“I _was_ going to bring them to you,” Bellamy says with a slight pout, “I didn’t expect you to be up this early.”

Clarke glances at the clock on the microwave. It’s ten-thirty in the morning. And yeah, he’s right. She’s wouldn’t have expected her to be conscious at this hour, either.

“I can go back, you know-”

“No no no,” Bellamy waves the spatula around the accentuate his point. “Just go wait on the couch. This’ll be done in a minute.”

Clarke hums in something like an agreement, but instead of leaving the kitchen, she pads on over the fridge instead.

Bellamy quirks an eyebrow up at her. She pulls out a can of whip cream from the fridge, and Bellamy sighs.

“This is supposed to be _breakfast_.”

“Don’t trap meals into boxes, Bellamy.” Clarke squirts some whip cream directly into her mouth, her next words coming out a bit muffled around it. “They can be whatever they want to be. Let them follow their dreams.”

Bellamy chuckles softly, and turns off the stove. “Whatever the hell you want.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I changed my tumblr url to [bellakeyblake](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com/) by the by. My username here will remain the same though.


	16. it's okay. i couldn't sleep anyway

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 5th, 2016

_Cold. Clinical. Sterile. Blindingly bright white walls, her feet echoing like a pounding heartbeat as she sprinted down them. But she remained in place, the hallway spiraling, always extending. The sound of screaming from the end of the hall intensifies, but she never gets any closer._

_And then she sees him: broken, bloody, crumpled, dying, dead._

_And then, she’s fall-_

She wakes up with a jolt. Breathing heavily, panting, gasping, like her heart’s going to beat out of her chest. She covered in sweat, sticky and suffocating.

Clarke grabs her phone. The clock says that’s it’s twelve forty-five in the morning, but - but she needs to know. She _knows_ , but she still needs that confirmation to ease that irrational part of herself.

She calls him and when it actually rings, she nearly hangs up. She was hoping to get his voicemail, to just listen to that. But she forgot that when his sister is away at school, he never turns it off incase she needs him.

But he answers before she fully makes that realization. “Clarke?”

His voice, groggy with sleep and confusion, but nevertheless it’s _confirmation_ \- it immediately slows her heart rate, calming her, reassuring her.

“Clarke?” He asks again, more insistently, and she realizes that she hasn’t said anything.

“I’m sorry, I-” Clarke doesn’t know how to explain this, she doesn’t know if she’d be able to explain it to herself. “I’m sorry I woke you. I can hang up-”

“Hey. It’s okay.” Bellamy yawns. “I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

It’s clearly a lie. She can hear the sleep in his voice, and she knows him. He’s always asleep by eleven on weeknights, because he has eight am classes everyday this semester

“No, it's not-”

“Have I ever told you the story of Atalanta?” Bellamy says. She can hear him shift on the bed. “She was born to this real misogynistic king. He wanted a son, so he left her on this hill to die. But guess how she survived?”

“How?” She asks. His voice continues to relax her, to ease the tension in her shoulders, laying her down gently into her mattress.

“She suckled on a _she-bear_ , Clarke.” He says with a hint of awe in his voice, “she was hardcore.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” She can feel her eyes begin to droop. “She was raised and trained by the bears. She swore herself to Artemis…”

She doesn't know when she fell asleep, but just that she stayed that way, sleeping better than she had in weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com/)!


	17. watch your step

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 11th, 2016

“You have a leaf in your hair.” Clarke tells him when they’ve stopped for a water break.

Bellamy reaches into his hair to pull the leaf out. There’s a caterpillar on it too. Great.

Clarke laughs at his disgruntled expression. She looks back down the trail, and then cocks her head at him. “Do you think we should wait for them?”

“Nah,” Bellamy pushes himself off the log he was sitting on. “We’ll be here all day if we do.”

Hiking with their friends was always fun in theory, but they could never keep up. The only person who ever could was his sister, but she was away at school at present, and when she came back the trail would be closed. And Bellamy was pretty sure that their friends had given up by now, honestly. They had groaned loudly and collectively when he and Clarke told them that it was a ten mile trek.

It’s well into Fall now. The leaves on the trees sparse, the ground covered in them. It was Bellamy’s favorite time of year to hike, surrounded by the colors, the reds and oranges and yellows. The crunch of the leaves beneath his boots. The crisp, cool air filling his lungs.

“Watch your step.” Clarke says, when the path begins to decline. They’ve hiked this trail many times before. This part is rocky, and those rocks were most likely loosened by the rain they had two days ago. Not to mention, the ground was covered with dead leaves like snow, covering the terrain.

Bellamy watched Clarke’s braid swing back and forth as she slowly maneuvers down the hill. Lately, he’s realized he’s been finding more and more excuses to touch her hands, to run his fingers through her soft waves. He tries not to think about the _why._ That’s an internal freak out for another day.

Her hair was mesmerizing, a golden ray of sunshine swaying and bouncing and-

Bellamy’s foot catches on a loose rock, and then he’s falling forward and sliding down the hill and-

_“Bellamy!”_

The leaves above swirl around his head like stars. Clarke’s face appears above him, her head glowing, backlit by the sun.

“Bellamy - look at me,” Clarke says, her hands coming to either side of his face and pulling his head up. She runs her fingers through his hair, and when she pulls back they’re red with blood. “Fuck, Bellamy. You’re probably going to need stitches. You’re lucky you didn’t crack your whole skull open.”

Bellamy groans in response, and tries to sit up. Clarke helps him a bit, and he ends up slouched against her - his head on her shoulder, her hands on his back.

“Feels like it is.” His voice sounds far off, like it’s coming from behind glass. That’s probably not a good sign.

“You may have a concussion,” Clarke says, a mix of worry and irritation in her voice. “You should have been paying better attention. What were you doing - staring at the sun?”

Bellamy turns his face into her neck. Her hair tickles his nose; she smells like pine.

“Yeah,” Bellamy says as he lets out a deep breath. It hurts his ribs. He better not have cracked any of those, too. “Something like that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	18. here, drink this. you'll feel better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 12th, 2016

Bellamy’s head was still pounding the next day - whether that was from the head trauma, or his sister screaming at him about it over the phone, he wasn’t exactly sure.

“Here, drink this.” Bellamy looked up to see Clarke standing above her, a glass of… something... in her hand. She gave a little exasperated huff when he just glanced from it to her. “You’ll feel better.”

Bellamy eyed the glass one more time, and then took it gingerly from her hand. He sniffed it - it smelled normal. He tasted it and -

“What the fuck is that?” Bellamy made a face of pure disgust.

Clarke sat down next to him on the couch. Her hands immiedatly went into his hair - but he wished it was for reasons other than looking at the small shaved spot on the back of his head, where his stitches were. He had to have them for a bit, but at least his hair was long enough that the shaved spot was hidden from view unless you were looking for it.

“It’s just a V8 with aspirin in it.” Clarke said, pulling her hands back. “If you don’t like it, then good. Maybe that’ll keep you from injurying yourself again.”

Clarke had been hovering over him a lot since the accident. A little franticly, and more than he thought this injury warranted. Not that he wanted her to back off or anything. But she seemed distressed.

“I’ll be more careful next time, I promise.” He meant it, bumping his shoulder against hers.

She turned to face him - her expression hard. It actually worried him, and he opened his mouth to say something-

“You _better_.” Clarke said, her voice hard. “Bellamy, you could have been hurt so much worse than this. You could have been-”

Oh.

He gets it now.

“Hey, hey,” Bellamy wrapped his arm around her, grateful when she didn’t protest, and just leaned into his side. He rubbed her shoulder. “Clarke, I’m not- I can’t promise you that I’m not going to get hurt again. But I can promise you that I’ll watch it okay.”

Clarke wasn’t looking at him. He suspected her eyes were glassy, and that she didn’t want him to see. Bellamy leaned down and pressed his face into her hair. The distraction in the first place - but she didn’t need to know that.

Since the first time she had called him in the middle of the night, she had done it two more times. He knew what that meant. He knew what she was worrying about.

“I’m not going to leave you if I can help it, Clarke,” Bellamy whispered into her hair.

Clarke reached her arm around him and held him tight. “You won’t, or _I’m_ going to conk you on the head.”

Bellamy chuckled softly into her hair and pulled her closer. She swung her legs over his lap and burrowed her head against his chest. He rubbed circles onto her calf, comfortingly.

He wasn’t going anywhere - she was never getting away from him - not if he could help it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	19. can i hold your hand?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 22nd, 2016

Whoever had suggested a corn maze as a “fun fall activity” could shove a cob up their ass.

The stalks were prickly and scratchy against her bare legs - little pieces getting stuck in her socks. It smelled like manure. There were bugs everywhere. She was hungry, and she couldn’t even eat the corn. Her and Bellamy had gotten separated from the group, and she’s pretty sure they were lost, and she’s pretty sure it’s been hours.

“It’s been like, twenty minutes, Clarke.” Bellamy said, but she could tell he was having just as much fun as she was - which was none.

When they come to a fork in the maze, the one with a scarecrow wearing a red plaid shirt, she actually screams. They’ve passed that at least three times.

“Jesus - give me a warning next time will you?” Bellamy rubbed at his ears.

“Sorry,” Clarke said sheepishly.

They picked left this time - they're pretty sure they hadn’t gone left yet.

The sun was starting to set now and they were still wandering around the maze. Bellamy was starting to get antsy next to her - his hands kept fidgeting, his head snapped around every time a crow cawed or there was a rustling sound in the stalks.

She knew he hated feeling trapped. Lost.

“I’ve got an idea.” Clarke said, stopping. She hated seeing Bellamy like this and just - fuck, she wanted out of this hell hole. “I’m about ready to just walk straight through.”

Bellamy glanced from her to the mass of corn in front of them. If they did just trudge through, they’d sooner find their way out than if they kept wandering. He gave her a sheepish look, his voice just the same: “Can I hold your hand?”

He didn’t want to get separated - to lose each other. She stuck out her hand, and he took it without a word. His hands were calloused, huge over hers.

“Ready?” She asked. He swallowed nervously, then nodded.

She stepped through the first row, pulling him behind her. The stalks kept hitting them in the face, scratching at their arms and legs. They stayed connected the whole time, matching each other’s pace so their grip wouldn’t be strained.

It was torture but - within a few minutes they had made it to sweet freedom.

“Oh thank God,” Bellamy said, letting out a deep breath. “I’m going to kill Jasper for this.”

Clarke laughed. “Not if I get to him first.”

“You’ll hold him, and I’ll-”

“Hey - there you are!” They turned around to see Raven coming towards them. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you two, everyone’s already at the car…”

Her voice trailed off, her eyes softening as they looked down.

At her and Bellamy’s hands - still intertwined. Clarke’s face grew hot. Raven was never going to let her hear the end of this.

Bellamy just gave Clarke’s hand a light squeeze - no move whatsoever to pull away.

“You guys ditched us.” Bellamy said, “I think you owe us ice cream.”

Raven snorts. “Talk to Jasper about that.” She turned around and started walking back to the parking lot. “Get all that shit off you before you get in the car! Miller will throw a fit.” She called back over her shoulder.

“Honestly?” Bellamy turned to face her. “Miller deserves a fit. And I’m going to force Jasper to get us _two_ ice creams.”

Clarke cocked an eyebrow at him. “And what does Monty owe us? He was in on this two.”

“Nah,” Bellamy shook his head. Clarke noticed that his thumb was rubbing circles onto the back of her hand; she wondered if he noticed he was doing that. “I owe Monty one. So we’re even.”

“Well, he _owes_ me then.”

“And you’ll share with me, right?”

“That’s very presumptuous of you.”

They bantered like that all the way back to the car. Bellamy didn’t let go of her hand until they had to buckle up their seat belts.

(And then discreetly, while everyone was arguing about pumpkin carving, he took it again).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm literally just winging all of these plot what plot there's a timeline that's something at least.
> 
> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	20. you can borrow mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 31st, 2016

“No way,” Clarke was beaming at him, a wildly pleased grin on her face, “You’re Harry fucking Potter.”

“I _am_ Harry fucking Potter,” Bellamy said, stepping into her apartment. Clarke couldn’t take her eyes off him - it was great. He borrowed Octavia’s Gryffindor tie and cloak for the occasion. Clarke herself wasn’t dressed yet, but her costume wasn’t a secret. She was doing a couple’s costume with Raven - they were being the cops from Zootopia, Bellamy doesn’t remember their names, but Clarke’s a rabbit and Raven’s a fox. “But I need your help with the scar.”

Clarke sat him down on one of her kitchen chairs. Her facepaint stuff was already out - sketches of rabbit and fox noses on the little scraps of paper on the table. Raven would be here soon - he was their ride to the Halloween party.

“Do you want movie style or fanart style?” Clarke asked. “Cartoon lightning or realistic lightning?”

“Surprise me.”

Clarke got to work. One of her hands weaved itself into the front of his hair to pull it back out of the way. It send a tingle across his scalp, and Bellamy had to stop himself from leaning up into her touch.

As she applied the little paintbrush to his forehead, her face twisted into one of concentration. Her eyebrows scrunching together, her nose twitching - Bellamy can’t help but think, like a rabbit - her tongue sticking out of the corner of her mouth. Her hot breath fanning him in the face-

“What’s that?” Clarke asked, pulling Bellamy out of his thoughts.

“Oh - um-” He pulled the offending object out of his pocket. “Miller’s drumstick. Best wand I could come up with.”

Clarke’s hands stilled on his forehead. He could see the gears turning in her head. “You can borrow mine.”

“What?”

Clarke was already gone though, scurrying down the hall towards her room, and returning just as quickly. “It’s Ginny’s wand, but it’s better than that.”

She handed him the wand, and he turned it over delicately in his hand. “Thanks, Clarke.”

“Don’t let Jasper see you have it though - he’s always wanting to borrow it.” Clarke said, not realizing that her words have sent him over the moon, because she trusts him with this. “Now, I’m going to need you to hold that mirror up - I gotta give myself whiskers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	21. you might like this

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October 31st, 2016

Clarke’s having fun at the Halloween party, but she quickly got too overheated in her police gear inside. She could feel the face paint undrying on her face. She goes into the backyard and sits on one of the swings.

She can hear Raven and Jasper’s friendly arguing over the Monster Mash all the way from where was she was. 

It’s nice - just listening, feeling the cool air on her face; she can still taste chocolate in her mouth. 

“There you are.”

Clarke opens her eyes and smiles as she sees Bellamy coming towards her across the grass. When she first saw him in his Harry Potter costume -  _ damn _ . Dress shirt, tie, his  _ glasses _ ; he always looked good in those, but just somehow the nerdiness increased it ten fold. Her mouth literally stopped working, she couldn’t take her eyes off him.

It was a problem. 

But she got to run her fingers through his soft dark curls, at least.

Bellamy smiles brightly at her and sits down in the swing next to her. He swings a little bit, unable to contain his excitement, and it’s so endearing that she wants to lean over and-

_ Woah. _

“You might like this.” Bellamy holds out his phone to show her a picture - and Clarke’s fucking  _ squeals _ .

It’s of Monty and Miller - Miller’s got Monty backed up against the wall, cupping his cheeks, and they’re kissing.

“It’s about time!” Clarke shrieks, grabbing the phone from Bellamy to get a closer look. Those too had been dancing around each other for months - gravitating towards one another, finding excuses to touch each other, always subtly asking if the other would be at whatever it was they were doing.

She smiles up at Bellamy, her grin just as big as his. They’re so happy for their friends that it’s gross.

Clarke looks back down at the phone. “But you being a creeper and taking this? Wow Bell, I thought that was beneath you.”

Bellamy snorts and plucks the phone out of her hand. “It’s Murphy’s okay. I stole it so he wouldn’t do it again. I was being a good friend.”

“But you can still enjoy the picture.”

“You bet I will.”

Clarke shakes her head and lets out a laugh. “I can’t believe it took them that long to get together.”

“Yeah. Those two.”

Bellamy lets out a breath, and looks up at the stars above them. There’s no more out than usual, but the moon’s full tonight. The moonlight illuminates his face in a pale glow, as he sways gently on the swing.

Clarke hesitates for a moment - but then she reaches over and takes his hand, lacing their fingers together and letting it hang in the space between them.

Bellamy looks over at her - the moonshine is glaring on his glasses, so she can’t see his eyes - but she feels their warmth. He squeezes her hand, and gives her a small smile, before turning back to look up at the moon.

Here, on the swings, his hand in her’s; the sounds of cheesy Halloween music and their friends laughter drifting in the cool air; the taste of chocolate in her mouth.

It’s nice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	22. it's not heavy. i'm stronger than i look

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November 6th, 2016

Bellamy’s shirt stuck to his skin from sweat despite the chilly air. He’d been bringing large boxes down from the attic for hours now. Murphy was moving in with his girlfriend, and how was it even possible that he had this much stuff? Bellamy’s never seen him buy anything but food before.

Maybe is it was best not to ask questions.

Bellamy set his most recent box into the back of Emori’s truck. It had Georgia plates, and when Bellamy had asked if she was from there, she gave him a creepy smile and said no.

Yeah. Definitely better not to ask questions.

Bellamy used one of the few dry parts of his shirt to rub at his face. They weren’t even half done. When he pulls away - he sees Clarke coming down the porch steps, her foot moving around trying to find the next step, a box almost bigger than she is in her arms.

“Woah hey,” Bellamy runs up to her, putting his hands on the box. “Take it easy-”

“It’s not heavy.” Clarke rolls her eyes, pulling the box away from him. “I’m stronger than I look.”

“I know that, but-”

Clarke makes it down the steps. At the bottom, she turns back to him, a fond, exasperated smile on her lips.. “I’ve got this for a bit. Take a break, Bell.”

Bellamy sighs, watching her walk to the truck and getting the box in before turning back into the house. He goes into the kitchen and grabs two ice cold beer bottles from the fridge.

He holds one to his forehead, and another out to her as she comes back up the porch steps.

“If I’m taking a break, then you are too.” 

Clarke grins, taking the bottle from him and clinking it against his own. “I can’t argue with that, now can I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come and hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	23. i'll wait

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November 11th, 2016

When Clarke had asked Bellamy for a ride to the hospital, he hadn’t freaked out. He must have assumed that she needed to see her mother for something.

But when she slid into the passenger seat, he freaked out.

“Are you alright?” Bellamy pressed the back of his hand against the forehead. “Jesus you’re burning up. If you told me it was an emergency I would have been here sooner-”

“Bell,” Clarke groaned, leaning her head back against the seat. “I’m fine. Or, I’m not. But this isn’t serious.”

“Then why are we going to the hospital?” Bellamy asked. He kept glancing from the road to her as he drove.

“Because I need a blood test done and my doctor’s office couldn’t find my vein.” Clarke grumbled. They had just kept poking her with the needle - they had done it at least six times before the nurse finally gave up. And Clarke was left with a bruised arm and an appointment at the hospital.

“You’re so pale how could they _not_?” Bellamy said, and Clarke smacks him, but it brings a small smile to her face.

Bellamy nags her a bit on the way, asking her all sorts of questions: _Do you need advil? Have you ate today? Are you drinking enough water?_

Bellamy hadn’t been the first person she asked for precisely this reason. She didn’t want him to worry. She was going to be fine.

“You can drop me off over there,” Clarke said, pointing to the outpatient center entrance. But Bellamy didn’t turn down there, he kept going, pulling into the parking garage. “Raven said she could pick me up.”

“I’ll wait.” Bellamy said, putting the car in park. “I don’t mind.”

Clarke’s eyes narrowed at him, but Bellamy remained strong under her gaze. It was endearing, and she loved him for it, but he shouldn’t have to sit in a sterile room smelling of band aids for at least two hours.

Clarke sighed. “You really don’t-”

“You can’t really stop me?” Bellamy said, undoing his seatbelt. “I’ve got nothing else to do. I don’t mind at all. You can text Raven that I got you.”

Clarke glared at him for a moment longer, but. Bellamy would always sacrifice free time for his friends even when he didn’t need to. That was just him.

“ _Fine,_ ” Clarke said, and then sneezed into her sleeve.

She texted Raven in the elevator.

 **Me:** Bell’s going to give me a ride back

 **Raven:** i figured gurl

 **Raven:** I KEEP TELLING YOU

Raven’s last text was followed by a string of emojis: a bell, the heart eyes face, and a guy and girl leaning in for a kiss with the heart above them.

Clarke was glad that her skin was already red, that was Bellamy wouldn’t see that she was blushing.

This was just Bellamy. That’s just who he was, it had nothing to do with her. But looking at him out of the corner of her eyes, watching him hum along to the elevator music, she wished it was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://katebishoop.tumblr.com)!


	24. just because

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November 20th, 2016

Bellamy and Miller’s place always smelled like home to Clarke, more so than her own place did. The faint staleness of old furniture, of wood, fresh air through the open windows. Laundry soap and left over pasta.

But there was something about Friendsgiving that just amplified that by a thousand. Maybe it was because all her friends were here - Bellamy and Miller and Monty and Jasper and Raven and Maya and Murphy and Emori and Monroe and Harper. Even Octavia’s there - through skype at a laptop at the head of the table, eating what Clarke was pretty sure was Chinese food.

There was only one person who was missing.

_“Next year, you should come,” Clarke had told him, “you’d love all of them - and Bellamy always gets really drunk and makes this big, cheesy toast-”_

_“Okay - but there also better be_ actual _cheesy toast.” Wells had said, throwing his arm around her, “because that’s the first thing that came to my mind when you said that.”_

Clarke excused herself from the table - it was for a legit reason, someone needed to refill the mashed potato bowl.

Clarke opened the freezer in the kitchen and let the icy air brush her face. Things were getting better. They _were_ better. But still, she knows the drill - the first round of holidays after a loss are always the hardest.

“Can I get in there?”

Clarke jumped and slammed the fridge shut, spinning around. Bellamy was looking at her sheepishly from the kitchen doorway. “Sorry - I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“It’s-” Clarke felt like she was swallowing her tongue. “Yeah. Go ahead.”

Bellamy gave her a quick once over before opening the freezer and pulling out the bottle of Fireball that was stashed back there. She busied herself with the mashed potatoes while he poured three shots, and drank them in quick succession.

Clarke raised an eyebrow at him. She hasn’t been gone that long. “Did I miss something?”

Bellamy works his face, the burning aftertaste still rocking him. “Octavia’s _boyfriend_ stopped by.”

“Oh?”

“He looks older than me, Clarke I-” Bellamy shakes his head. “He’s left now. He was just dropping something off - but _Jesus_.”

Clarke glanced from the bottle of whiskey back to Bellamy. “Does that really warrant all that?”

Bellamy shrugged rubbing a hand over his face. “Hey, it’s also preparation for my toast. I gotta be extra drunk this time.”

There’s a sound of glass shattering from the living room where they set the table up. Both of them sigh.

“Can you deal with that?” Clarke asked as she fiddled with the potatoes. She still wasn’t really ready to go back out there.

Bellamy paused a moment, but then stepped towards her. One of his hands went up into her hair, pulling her head closer to him so he could press a kiss against her forehead.

Clarke felt her cheeks turn pink. “What was that for?”

Bellamy couldn’t have been feeling the effects of the alcohol already. It wasn’t possible. Bellamy shrugged. “Just because.” He said, before heading out to deal with their hoard of friends who were more like children.

Clarke can hear him scolding them, and her hand comes out to ghost over the place where his lips were. She brings her hand back, and it smells like the cinnamon of the whiskey he hand just drank.

_Just because._

Clarke stuck her head back in the freezer for a completely different reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr!](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)


	25. look both ways

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November 27th, 2016

“Thanksgiving was last week.” Clarke scolded from the entryway to the kitchen, and honestly, Bellamy is confused.

It’s Clarke’s first time over since Friendsgiving, having been swept up in family stuff. They were  going to spend their Sunday watching Netflix in their pajamas on his couch. Bellamy couldn’t think of anything better than that.

But Clarke was glaring at him like it’s somehow his fault that time passed. “Uh, yeah?”

“And how do you have _no leftovers_?”

She sounded indignant and looked just totally put off by this that Bellamy has to laugh.

Which is the wrong response.

“This is bullshit, Bellamy.”

“Have you met Miller?” Bellamy can’t help but be amused by this. It’s like he kicked a puppy she’s that upset by this.

“And you don’t have any other food.” Clarke grumbles to herself. She takes his sweatshirt off the back of the couch and shoves it on before toeing on her shoes. “The little market around the corner is open on Sundays right?”

“Yeah but-” He tried to stand up, but she placed a hand on his shoulder to guide him back down onto the couch. “We can just get take out, you don’t have to go-”

Clarke shrugged. “I’m really feeling turkey and Cheez-its though.” She put on the sweatshirt’s hood - it wasn’t raining, but it was cloudy and chilly. The entire sweatshirt - his sweatshirt - engulfed her. And it was adorable. “Besides,” Clarke went on, “You should probably take a shower - you stink.”

Bellamy snorted. “We weren’t _going_ anywhere.”

Clarke let out a small laugh, and ruffled his hair in a way that made Bellamy’s brain short circuit. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

There was nothing anyone could ever do to change Clarke’s mind once she made it up.

“Look both ways.” Bellamy called back to her, “and don’t talk to strangers!”

“ _Bye_ , Bellamy.” Clarke said fondness before shutting the door behind her.

Bellamy got off the couch and peeked out the window, watching her until she disappeared around the corner.

He sniffed his armpit and - woah, yeah. He should probably shower. Clarke put up with a lot of his messes, but this was a little much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> by the way, if you want like a hint on when certain things are going to happen, you can just look at the prompt list
> 
> come and hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	26. i'm sorry. i didn't mean to

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November 30th, 2016

Bellamy loved classics, but he hated his professor with a burning passion. Who assigned group work in graduate school? At least his partner was nice and seemed to know her stuff.

He and Gina were on the floor in his living room, their backs against the couch and take out containers and different translations of _The Iliad_ all around them.

“Do you think he’s ever actually read this?” Gina said in regard to their shitty professor, her mouth full of noodles. “I talked to him about the relationship between Achilles and Patroclus and he basically replied _no homo_.”

“I wouldn’t be surprised, honestly,” Bellamy agreed. “He’s such a-”

Bellamy was cut off by the front door opening.

“Bellamy I found it!” Bellamy turned to see Clarke, taking off her shoes by the door, bouncing excitedly. “It’s a little scratched but-” Clarke’s eyes widened when she finally noticed that he had company, her cheeks going a bit pink. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s fine. Gina, Clarke. Clarke, Gina.” Bellamy pointed between the two. “We’re working on this project for classics but - I think we’re almost done?”

Gina cocked an eyebrow at him. “Yeah. We can be.”

“Cool,” Bellamy turned back to Clarke, who was still kind of frozen in place. He saw what she had been referring to, a DVD of Sky High. “The DVD player is still broken down here, do you want to get it set up in my room?”

“Uh- yeah, sure” Clarke said, and then she was hurrying up the stairs.

Bellamy started grabbing the empty take out containers while Gina packed her things.

“So we can probably do everything else over Google Docs?” Bellamy asked.

Gina shrugged on her jacket. “I got it - you’ve done a lot, and there isn’t much left.” Gina threw her bag over her shoulder. “We could have finished in another hour? Your girlfriend has poor timing.”

Bellamy opened his mouth to correct her - but closed it again. _Clarke. Girlfriend_ . She thought that _Clarke was his girlfriend_.

He didn’t see a point in correcting her.

“Sorry about that.” Bellamy rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ll make it up to you - bring you a coffee to class? Lots of sugar, right?”

Gina grinned at him. “Yep. And all week, Bellamy.”

“Fine,” Bellamy huffed, then straightened up. “Seriously - sorry about this. But thanks.”

Once Gina left, he grabbed the ice cream from the freezer and two spoons before going up the stairs to his room.

Clarke was sitting up on his bed, her legs tucked under her. The only light was coming from his laptop screen, illuminating Clarke’s face, the colors of the menu credits screen reflecting in her eyes.

“Hey,” Bellamy said, after watching her a moment. She looks up at him, a sheepish smile on her face as he settles on the bed next to her. “I brought ice cream.”

Clarke bit her lip. “I should have texted or something-”

“ _Clarke_.” Bellamy leaned his head on her shoulder. “It’s fine. You saved me from the worst assignment in the world.”

He was started to get a little worried by how much time had passed. “I thought I had interrupted a date.”

“Oh.” Bellamy was glad that she couldn’t see his face, because it was suddenly warm and most likely red. “Um - yeah nope. If it was, it would have been the worst date ever. Too much homework involved.”

Clarke gave a shaky laugh at that. Bellamy sat up, and put his arm around her so that she could fit into his side, like she always did.

“Remind me again,” Bellamy said as he popped the lid off the ice cream tub and handed her a spoon. “Who ends up with the main guy?”

Clarke craned her head back to look at him. “The main girl. The plant one.”

“No - she’s with the fire guy.” He should have got the bigger tub of ice cream. They’d be done with this before the guy got his powers.

“Nope.” Clarke said, popping the _p_ as she pulled the spoon out of her mouth. Bellamy dropped his jaw dramatically, and it gets a brighter, more eased laugh out of her. “I know I know - it’s one of the biggest injustices in film.”

“Why are we even watching this movie then?” Bellamy said, as he pressed play.

Even with Clarke’s funny commentary, it was a little hard to focus on the film.

Gina had thought Clarke was his girlfriend. Clarke had thought he and Gina were on a date.

He only wanted one of those statements to be true.

And how to make that happen? That was a problem for another day. Soon, but not tonight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> getting longer chapters because ~plot~
> 
> come hang out over on [](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com>tumblr</a>!)


	27. try some

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December 14th, 2016

When Bellamy texted Clarke that she should come over, she should not have felt nervous. She comes over unannounced all the time, or sometimes she’ll text in advance, or sometimes he’ll text her.

But the words _come over_ stared back at her, making her pulse race. It was usually something like _i’m going to scream_ or _miller fell down the stairs_ or _there’s this new documentary on netflix,_ never anything so plain, and short, and direct, and vague-

And she was over thinking this.

She’d been over thinking a lot of things lately.

She had realized something, when she thought he had been on a date. The disappointment, the hurt…

She’d already been feeling things. Things that Raven nagged her about on a constant basis.

But now it was - well. She hadn’t realized she was _territorial_ about them. She was comfortable with her and Bellamy, the way they were, but thought of him with anyone else made her…

It made her almost as nervous as that text.

“Bell!” Clarke called as she entered his house.

“In here!” He called back, from what Clarke first thought was upstairs - but it was just the kitchen. Just the kitchen.

The kitchen - which was a complete mess. Flour everywhere, some eggshells on the floor, water dripping down the cabinets.

“Hey,” Bellamy said, sounding relieved. There was flour sprinkled in his hair, and on his glasses, and.

Oh, damn.

“I had to type that text with my nose, I hope your proud,” Bellamy said, holding up his hands, which were covered in flour and… cookie dough. “Octavia’s coming back Friday, I wanted to make her cookies.”

Clarke’s eyes widened. Bellamy was a good cook, she knew that. But when it comes to baking, well, the state of his kitchen is a pretty good reflection of his skill.

“Are you trying to kill her?” Clarke asked, her eyes dancing everywhere from his hands to his hair. “Is this punishment for the boyfriend?”

She thinks Bellamy rolled his eyes, but his glasses are so messy it’s hard to tell. “Try some.”

“So you’re trying to kill _me_ ?” Clarke swipes her hand in the bowl of dough. It tastes _good_ \- chocolate chip with a hint of cinnamon - Octavia would love them. If Bellamy didn’t burn them in the oven, that is.

Bellamy was looking at her strangely - she could tell that even without seeing his eyes. “What?” Her voice was suddenly small.

“You go some-” Bellamy gestured to his face, but then he reached out. His thumb brushed the corner of her mouth. She couldn’t move, as his thumb grazed over her lip just a little, and she could taste his finger below the taste of the cookie dough.

Bellamy pulled his thumb back, and licked the dough off his own thumb.

Clarke felt very, very warm - and she didn’t think it had anything to do with the oven behind her, that just beeped letting them know that it’s preheating was done.

“Can you get the wax paper?” Bellamy asked, and Clarke hates herself for physically jumping out of daze. “My hands are a little.”

“Yeah.” Clarke said quickly, brushing a stray had behind her ear. “Yeah - I got it.”

Oh - she was so screwed. And Clarke had no idea what to do about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	28. drive safely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December 16th, 2016

Bellamy was just about to head out the door when his cell phone rang. A smile spread across his face when he read Clarke’s name off the screen.

“Hey-”

“Have you left yet?” Clarke interjected, squickly.

“Um - no, but I’m about-”

“Bellamy have you looked outside?” 

Bellamy pulled the curtain back from the window by the door. It was snowing pretty steadily, but not heavily. 

“Bellamy, it’s supposed to get worse.” He could just picture Clarke now: nose pressed to the window, her fingers tapping rapidly against it, that crease between her brows. “Has her flight even landed? It may get turned around.”

“I got a text from her about five minutes ago, she just landed.” Bellamy told her. “Clarke, we’ll be fine.”

He could picture her now again: her lip between her teeth, eyes nervous watching the snow, her mind racing. When she spoke again, it was gentle but fierce, worried but determined: “Drive safely.”

“I will,” he reassured her softly, he wasn’t going to tell her not to worry because he knew she would anyway. 

“Text me when you get home, okay?”

“I promise,” Bellamy said, getting his keys. “And I’ll have O text you when we’re leaving the airport too.”

He waited there in the open doorway for a minute, not caring that he was letting the cold in. He knew that just hearing him breathe on the other end of the line was comforting to her, like a reminder.

“I need to go now,” he said, and if this was anyone but his sister, he may have taken Clarke’s advice. 

“Okay,” Clarke said quietly, “and don’t forget to text.”

“I won’t,” Bellamy said, and then he waited for her to hang up. She did, after a moment, with no further comment. He noticed that she never says  _ goodbye _ anymore, like somehow that guarantees that it  _ won’t _ be one, that they’ll meet again.

And, he was going to make sure that they did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	29. well, what do you want to do?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December 17th, 2016

When she opens the door the Blake-Miller household, the first thing she registers is a flash of long brown hair flying at her.

“Clarke!” Octavia wraps her up in a bone-crushing hug, lifting her off the floor. What the fuck was with the Blakes and superhuman strength?

“Hey,” Clarke chokes out - and Octavia thankfully gets the hint and releases her. 

“Bell’s showering right now,” Octavia says, tugging Clarke by the hand down onto the couch with her. “So, tell me about…”

She’s not - she’s not  _ close _ with Octavia, not the way she is with Bellamy. But she’s a Blake - she’s tactile, and bright, and welcoming. So even though they never really hang out, or even text regularly, they always have this rhythm they fall it’s when they’re together. It’s nice.

Mostly it’s just Octavia to know if her brother was eating and if she had an embarrassing stories on him.

She’s just finished telling O about the most recent time he got locked out when she says, “I can’t wait for his face when he opens his Christmas present. He’s going to freak. Your reaction is going to be-”

“Clarke’s not spending Christmas with us, O.” Both girls look up to see Bellamy coming down the stairs. He’s in the middle of pulling a shirt over his head, so Clarke gets a flash of his toned abs that sends a flush up her cheeks. “You’re spending the holidays with your mother, right?”

Clarke’s glad that her hesitation to the question hides the fact that she’s still recovering from seeing him shirtless. “I…” Clarke bites her lip, she did usually do Christmas with her mother, but. “I’m supposed to?”

Bellamy gives her a confused look, before plopping down in the arm chair. He can read her like a book - he knows something’s up.

“Well, what do you want to do?” He asks her, and it’s so simple. That’s why Clarke had never thought to ask that question herself - but Bellamy does. He always knows what to say.

Clarke blows a stray lock of hair out of her face, mulling it over, trying to put it into words. “She’s going out so Thelonious won’t be alone and-” Clarke shakes her head. “I don’t really want to go back to that house. I was just going to curl up in my apartment and not leave for four days.”

“Why wouldn’t you stay with us?” Octavia asks, looking between the two of them.

Clarke shrinks back a little bit. “I wouldn’t want to intrude-”

“Clarke,” Bellamy says, gentle and fond and it eases her discomfort a bit. “There’s no way you're doing Christmas alone. Miller went home, so we have an extra bedroom.”

“Why would she need the-?”

“ _ Octavia _ ,” Bellamy says, firm, kind of like a warning, “Can you give Clarke and I a minute?”

The two of them share a look that Clarke just doesn’t get, being an only child. But it ends with Octavia going back up the stairs, her hands up in defeat.

Bellamy sighs, and gets up so he can go over and sit next to Clarke on the couch.

“You’re never intruding, okay? I always want you around. I don’t want you to ever feel like you’re not welcome here, okay?” Bellamy says, taking her hands in his. “If you’re not going home - you should stay with us.”

Clarke ducks her head. She’s not tearing up. She’s  _ not _ . “I could just stay in my apartment and come over-”

“ _ Clarke. _ ” Bellamy tugs on her hands a little, his thumbs brushing over her wrists. “Please stay here with us. I don’t like the idea of you cooped up all alone when you could be here, having the best Christmas  _ ever _ .” Clarke lets of a small, shaky laugh. “Besides, I’m going to need back up with O here.”

Clarke laughs again - Bellamy always knows how to cheer her up. She doesn’t know why she’s so emotional about this. She shouldn’t be, but here she was, being a mess.

“Yeah,” Clarke says, a smile creeping up on her face, “yeah okay.”

Bellamy beams at her, one of his hands coming up into her hair to pull her forehead to his lips. He’s been doing that more and more lately - and it makes her heart leap every time.

“I’ll go tell O,” Bellamy says, standing up and already over at the stairs, eagerly taking them two at a time, “and then we’ll sing by your place and get your stuff!”

Clarke bites back a huge grin as she plops her head back against the sofa. She still would have to deal with that phone call to her mother, telling her the change of plans, but. She had a feeling Bellamy was right, and that this was going to be the best Christmas ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> get ready for like the next eight or so chapters to all be Christmas related despite it being like May now... i didn't think this through but here we are... this is my life and these are my choices...
> 
> and come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	30. one more chapter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December 17th, 2016

He’s still got one foot at the top of the stairs when Octavia yanks him by the arm into his room. 

Octavia doesn’t give him any time to recover. She slams the door shut behind them and then whirls on him. “You and Clarke  _ aren’t dating _ ?”

Bellamy blinks at her.

“You thought Clarke and I were  _ dating _ ?”

Octavia throws her hands up in the air. “I thought she’s been girlfriend since September!”

“No!” Bellamy doesn’t know why they’re yelling - but thank God that the door is closed and that Clarke couldn't hear any of this. 

“Why not?”

“I-” Bellamy clamps his mouth shut. His whole face feels hot, and it’s probably as red as his sister’s shirt. He’d been asking himself that same question for a while - but coming from his sister? “I’m working on it, okay?”

He  _ is  _ working on it. But Clarke’s his best friend, and he’s not going to screw this up. He’s never been this nervous before. He keeps coming up with more and more excuses  _ not _ to do anything even though he desperately wants to.

He’s usually a mess, but this mess he doesn’t know how to deal with.

“Just - Jesus, O,” Bellamy rubs a hand over his face. “Don’t say anything okay?” Octavia was beaming at him, a large grin that did nothing but worry him. “We’ll be right back - we’re going to go pick up her things.”

“Take your time,” Octavia says, and Bellamy sighs.

He rushes out of the room and back down the stairs. Clarke looks surprised as he hurries her out of the house and into the car.

“You look-”

“Octavia's being-” Bellamy huffs as he pulls out of the driveway. 

“Your sister?” Clarke supplies, cocking an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah,” Bellamy laughs, feeling the tension come out of his shoulders, “ _ exactly _ .”

When they get to her apartment, Clarke immediately darts into her room to pack a bag. Bellamy plops down on her tiny, shitty couch, full intention of getting comfortable because he has a pretty good feeling that she’s going to be a while. Clarke’s totally fine with everyday getting ready, but packing? An hour, at least.

He’s going to pull out his phone and continue the Words With Friends game he has going with Miller - their theme being body parts and/or types of meat - we he spots the book on her coffee table.

The gold ancient Greek helmet catches his eyes - and then he sees the title, and the word  _ Achilles  _ pulls him in.

His intention is to read the summary on in the inside flap, but he accidently sees the first line of the book-  _ My father was a king and the son of kings -  _ and then the next line, and the next line, and the next line.

Something shakes Bellamy’s shoulder, and he jumps up to see Clarke looking down at him, an amused smile on her face.

“I said your name like, four times,” Clarke shakes her head, “You’re really into that book aren’t, you?”

Bellamy looks down to the book in his hands - he’s about…  _ ninety  _ pages in? He looks at his watch and - it’s been  _ forty-five  _ minutes?

“What- crap, I’m sorry I-” Bellamy tries to get up, but Clarke pushes him gently back down onto the couch.

“One more chapter,” Clarke says, sitting down next to him on the couch. He raises an eyebrow at her. “You can read one more chapter before we go - if you read it aloud.”

Bellamy felt a grin spread across his face. “Yeah - yeah, okay.”

Clarke snuggles into his side, lifting up his arm so she can fit into the crook of it. She doesn’t even let go of his arm, just holds onto it life she would a stuffed animal.

Bellamy coughs a little, to get his voice even before he starts reading. As he turns the page, he takes a quick glance down at Clarke. She’s got her eyes closed, her face content, a small smile.

Yeah, he was working on it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	31. don't worry about me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December 17th, 2016

The moment the step foot back into his house, Clarke's phone rings.  
  
He can tell who's calling her by the stricken look on her face.  
  
"Hey Mom," Clarke says. She's trying her best to keep her voice even.  
  
Bellamy places his hand on hers, the one that's holding onto her bag, and squeezes it. She gives him a sheepish smile as her mother chatters away on the line.  
  
He takes the bag from her and heads to the stairs, to give her some privacy.  
  
"Mom- yeah, about that..."  
  
Just after he sets Clarke's bag on Miller's bed, his own phone rings.  
  
"Do you have a hidden camera in here?" Bellamy says in lieu of a greeting.  
  
Miller laughs on the other end of the line, a little bit of static. "You're on speaker."  
  
"So, Clarke's spending Christmas with you." Monty says, a little farther off. There's some other sounds that they have to speak over, he must be driving.  
  
Bellamy rubs a hand over his face. "Octavia called you?"  
  
"Mass group text."  
  
Bellamy sighs and marches down the hall. "Do you guys have nothing better to obsess over?"  
  
"Cable cost money but you're free." Miller says and if he were here Bellamy would punch him.  
  
Bellamy climbs up the ladder, and pokes his head into the attic room that used to belong to Murphy that Octavia's staying in.  
  
"I told you not to say anything."  
  
Octavia looks up from her phone and grins at him. "You meant _to Clarke_. I'm in the clear."  
  
"Is that Octavia?" Miller says, and then both he and Monty are shouting greetings at her.  
  
"I hate all of you." He says, before hanging up.  
  
Octavia sticks his tongue out at him, and he does so right back before heading back down the ladder.  
  
In the living room, Clarke's done talking to her mother. She's sitting on the edge of the couch, her head in her hands.  
  
"Clarke?"  
  
She rubs her hands over her face before looking up at him. She's not crying, but her eyes are red. "Hey."  
  
Bellamy sits next to her on the edge of the couch. "That bad? Look, Clarke-"  
  
Clarke laughs, but there's no humor behind it. "Don't worry about me." Clarke rubs at her eye. "Or her. She understands but she's not happy about - whatever, she'll get over it. And I promised to go to another gala for her in January to make up for it."  
  
Bellamy puts his arm around her and rubs some circles into her shoulder. That meant he was probably going to that gala too, but he didn't mind.  
  
He never minded spending time with her.  
  
"Want to continue the book or put on a movie?"  
  
Clarke snorts. "You're not going to be able to focus on anything else until we finish it."  
  
Bellamy hums in agreement. "Can you blame me?"  
  
Clarke smiles fondly and shakes her head. "Nah." Clarke stands up off the couch, and stretches a little. "But can we read it upstairs? Your couch is worse than mine."  
  
"One: that's a lie," Bellamy says, as he follows her up, "but, two: _fine_."  
  
Clarke curled up into his side, in his bed, as he reads to her. That was more than fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	32. it looks good on you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Decemeber 20th, 2016

Clarke usually did spend Christmas with her mother, but it hadn't felt like a real one since her father died.  
  
They had tried that first year afterwards. They had bought a tree, they had trimmed it with tinsel. But the ornaments had never made it on the tree. Too many memories in the garage, where they were kept and where her father used to work. Too many ornaments with family photos in them, or ones made by Clarke and her father when she was young. Ornaments that commemorated occasions: Baby's First Christmas, Happy 10 Year Anniversary.  
  
Her parents had got married in early December, and her mother already had their Happy 15 Year Anniversary ornament bought and wrapped and ready to go.  
  
It would never make it on the tree.  
  
After that year, they stopped getting trees altogether. Christmas became presents over dinner, and brunch in the morning. It wasn't as depressing as it used to be, but it lacked the holiday spirit.  
  
But Christmas with the Blake's? That wasn't lacking anything.  
  
Bellamy joked that they were making up for all the shitty Christmas' they had as children. Octavia rolled her eyes, and told him that he had always made them great.  
  
She caught the bright small on Bellamy's face as he turned his head away, and it warmed her up.  
  
The tree they got was not as big as the one Clarke used to have as a child, but it was taller than she was. The top went up Bellamy's nose.  
  
They had one string of lights, multicolor and half burnt out. Their ornaments were a mishmash of things: things clearly made by children - by which Blake, she couldn't tell - paper snowflakes, and a few Happy Meal Toys with a string tied around them.  
  
She and Octavia were digging around the garage looking for the tree topper. Apparently they had a hollow lawn gnome _somewhere_ that they used.  
  
"It may be over here..."  Octavia was halfway in a giant box, her legs sticking in the hair. "Oh hey!"  
  
Octavia leaned out back of the box, but she didn't have the gnome, instead she had a bundle of sweaters in her arms.  
  
"Miller got us these as a gag gift last year." Octavia tossed her a red one. "You can wear this one."  
  
Clarke held up the sweater - and it was probably the ugliest ugly Christmas sweater she's ever seen. It had these little deformed elves on it all dancing around a Christmas tree. It looked like some type of cult ritual, complete with pom-poms and and fake pine material.  
  
She really doesn't want to wear it, but it's Christmas, and Octavia's giving her _the look_ , so Clarke shrugs it on. At least it isn't itchy.  
  
Clarke noticed that there was only one sweater left in Octavia's arms, and it looked far to big for her. "What about you?"  
  
"I got myself a cute ugly sweater." Octavia shrugs. "You can definitely keep that one, by the way. And give this one to Bell - I'll keep looking for the gnome."  
  
Bellamy's sweeping up bits of the tree that had fallen off when she enters the living room again.  
  
He hears her and turns around, a large smirk spreading across his face as he looks her up and down, his eyes lingering on the sweater. "It looks good on you."  
  
Clarke feels her face go hot, so she tosses his sweater at him in retaliation. "Well, that ones yours."  
  
He shrugs it on, and she honestly doesn't know what she was expecting. His wasn't any uglier than hers, but it may have been weirder. It was green, with Santa on it. But Santa wasn't riding his sleigh, he was riding Rudolph like a horse.  
  
"It even _lights up_." Bellamy says, pushing one of Rudolph's hooves, and the little red bulb on the nose blinks. 

The sweater was also way, way too small for him. It stretched across his chest, and rided up a little at the waist, pulling his shirt up with it and exposing a bit of his toned stomach.

Clarke makes a show of checking him out, and she's satisfied when she sees Bellamy's cheeks go as red as Rudolph's nose. "You don't look so bad yourself."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	33. close your eyes and hold out your hands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December 25th, 2016

Clarke living with them was like a Christmas miracle. Or dream come true. Or whatever you'd call it - point being, Bellamy was over the moon.

He just wished that when they parted to go to bed, or those times that Clarke fell asleep on the couch and he carried her up the stairs, that she'd be in his room instead of Miller's empty one.

And maybe Clarke was a Christmas miracle, because there she was, on Christmas Eve, creeping into his room?

Was he dreaming?

"Clarke?" He hadn't been asleep, but he'd been close.

Clarke froze. "Crap - I didn't mean to wake you."

"You didn't." Bellamy yawned. He pushed himself up into a seating position.

Clarke sat on the edge of his bed, one leg tucked up under her. She had one hand behind her back, the other resting on his knee over the sheets. The only light was coming from the slim crack in the open doorway, a strip of yellow light that curved up Clarke's body. And up her face, just enough that he can make out the corner of her mouth and that cute little mole and the brightness in her eye.

"Merry Christmas." Clarke said.

Bellamy glanced at the clock on his nightstand, and sure enough it read 12:01 AM.

Bellamy chuckled softly, "I didn't think you were the type to stay up."

"I couldn't wait any longer." Clarke said, poking his knee.

"Close your eyes and hold out your hands."

Bellamy eyes widened for a second, but then he does what she said. "You really couldn't wait."

"Well - I finally finished it, so..." She pressed the gift into his hands.

It's not wrapped, it's wide, rectangular in shape, it feels leathery. Clarke's hands came over his, and he felt her pull part of the leather back, heard her fingers tapping. A leather case, a touch screen.

"Okay - you can open your eyes now."

It took his eyes a moment to adjust to the light emitting off the screen. But he can tell that it's a Kindle with a black leather case.

And then he saw what's on the screen - it's the cover of The Song of Achilles, the book he and Clarke had been reading together. But it's different. The cover isn't as sharp, the font is a bit different, like it was hand written-

And then he remembered what Clarke had just said: "Well - I finally finished, so..."

He gaped at her - his eyes darting from her grinning face to the thing in his hands.

He swiped to the left, and the next page reads: _illustrated by Clarke Griffin (For Educational Purposes Only)_

And the one after that: _To Bellamy, my huge nerd that always believed in me._

And the page after that: a bright, colorful, beautifully done graphic novel page.

He flipped through a few more pages, more blown away by each one, before he went back to the dedication page, lingering on it.

"It started as my final project, but I knew you'd like it so I just... kept going."

"You did the _entire_ book?" He can't - no he can believe this, because it's Clarke. She doesn't go big or go home - she just goes big. The dedication page is right. "I... This is amazing, Clarke."

Bellamy placed one of his hands on top of hers, the one that was still on his knee. "Thank you."

Clarke smiled shyly and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I know it's not as impressive, but the Kindle's yours too."

Bellamy laughed. "I love it, Clarke - all of it."

"Merry Christmas, Bellamy." Clarke said, and then she made to stand up.

Bellamy clutched onto her hand. She looked down at him and he - he didn't know what he had been intending with this, but.

"You- you don't have to go," Bellamy stuttered out, "if you don't want to I mean-"

Clarke squeezed his hand. At the angle, the lights not on her face, and he can't make out her expression. "Let me shut the door."

He let her hand slip from his, fingertips brushing. Clarke shut the door, and Bellamy held the sheets up so she could slip under them next to him.

He's not expecting her to cuddle up to him - or maybe he should, because that's always been them, tactile, but something about this feels different - her head on his chest, her arm around his waist, her leg slung over his.

She burrowed her face into his chest, sighing contently. Bellamy ran his fingers through her hair, and leaned down to press a kiss into it.

"Merry Christmas, Clarke."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter comes at you from some highway in Missouri where I strangely have service.
> 
> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	34. that's okay. i bought two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December 25th, 2016

"It's Christmas get up get up get up!"  
  
Bellamy jolted awake and something jumped on his bed. He clutched onto Clarke tighter and-  
  
Octavia was jumping on the bed, grinning at him. "Get your sweaters on and get downstairs!"  
  
She scurried out of the room just as Clarke came too. "Wha?"  
  
Clarke looked up at him, heavily lidded, a strand of hair stuck in her mouth. A complete, beautiful mess.  
  
"Just Octavia wishing us a Merry Christmas." Bellamy said, easing his grip around her a bit. The clock on his nightstand read 10:30 AM. O let them sleep in, at least.  
  
Clarke grumbled in response, and he slipped out of the bed. Clarke needed a few more minutes before she'd be up. She reached for him and Bellamy gently pushed her arms back down onto the bed.  
  
But then he ripped the blanket away, and Clarke's face scrunched up. She needed a little encouragement or she'd never get up.  
  
Per his sisters instructions, he shrugged on the hideous Christmas sweater and trudged down the stairs.  
  
Octavia was waiting for him in the kitchen, sitting on the counter next to all the pancake ingredients that were laid out on the counter.  
  
"Are you going to help this time?" Bellamy asked.  
  
His sister looked up from her phone, grinning. "Nope."  
  
She turned her phone to him, and Bellamy sighed.  
  
It was the infamous Mass Group Chat she always mentioned. She had just sent everyone  picture of him and Clarke asleep, looking peaceful and tangled up in each other. And then right before his eyes, the responses started to pour in.  
  
 **Jasper:** MERRY CHRISTMAS TO ME!!!!  
  
 **Raven:** FINALLY  
  
 **Miller:** Phew that's not my bed  
  
 **Monty:** We may be in different places but I can 100% guarantee  that this is Jasper's new locks teen  
  
 **Jasper:** YOURE DAMN RIGHT IT IS  
  
 **Murphy:** *point right emoji* *OK hand sign emoji*  
  
 **Raven:** why don't you just use the actual emojis  
  
 **Murphy:** *middle finger emoji*  
  
Bellamy snatched Octavia's phone from her hand, and held it out of reach from her as he typed out a response.  
  
 _Octavia:_ you guys are creepy and nothing happened  
  
 _Harper:_ oooops worse Blake is here  
  
 **Lincoln:** I still haven't met these people I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with this Octavia  
  
Octavia poked him sharp in the side, and when he flinched it caused him to lower his arm enough for her to snatch her phone back.  
  
"Consider that your Christmas present!" He called out as she walks out of the kitchen.  
  
"It would be if something _happened!_ " She called back.  
  
"What's going on?" He turned and saw Clarke in the doorway of the kitchen, sleep still heavy on her face.  
  
Bellamy snorted. "Octavia is getting on Santa's naughty list."  
  
"It's too late for that!" Octavia shouted from the living room. So she was listening - okay.  
  
Clarke padded into the kitchen, eyeing the stuff on the counter. "Pancakes?" Bellamy nodded. "Do you need help?"  
  
Bellamy has half a mind to say no, because Clarke is the worst cook he's ever met. But he'll be the one actually frying them, so.  
  
And after a rough start - three dog pancakes, his personal worst - maybe Clarke over his shoulder smelling like his bed is throwing him a little off balance.  
  
"Hey-" Clarke was digging in the fridge, and she pulled back holding up an empty blueberry container. "What happened here?"  
  
"Oh." Bellamy knows exactly what happened. He shot her a sheepish look as he flipped the next pancake. "I may have got hungry around - eleven? - last night."  
  
Clarke rolled her eyes, but it was fond. "That's okay. I bought two." She pulled out another container, from the fridge, and Bellamy raised an eyebrow at her. He hadn't remembered seeing two packs.  
  
"Hiding one?"  
  
"Well, you can see why I needed too," Clarke said, tossing a few into next sizzling circle of batter.  
  
"Are they ready yet?" Octavia shouted from the living room.  
  
"No!" Clarke and Bellamy shouted back in unison, sniggering as they heard Octavia groaned.  
  
She was leaving all the work to them - not that he minded much - but that still meant she'd have to wait.

He watched as Clarke popped one of the blueberries into her mouth - it going into a cute little 'o' shape - and yeah, he was going to take his sweet time.

A Merry Christmas to him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and this one comes at you from a denny's in texas.
> 
> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	35. after you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December 27th, 2016

It had been a white Christmas, but the real snow didn't come until a few days later. Not enough to cut the power, but enough to close the roads.  
  
They woke up to a thick white blanket over the lawn, it sparkling and glimmering in the sunlight. Everything was peaceful, like the world was asleep.  
  
And then everything changed when Octavia attacked.  
  
He and Clarke were on the couch watching the Harry Potter marathon when Octavia burst in, throwing two snowballs smack in their faces.  
  
"Ten points to Gryffindor!" Octavia yelled before darting back outside.  
  
Bellamy  slowly wiped the snow off his face, his jaw hard set. Clarke cleared her eyes. They just look at each other for a moment. Clarke glanced at the door, then back at him holding up her hands.  
  
"After you." She said, and that was it.  
  
Bellamy jumped up, hurrying to get his boots on. He could hear Clarke laughing behind him, and then he was darting out onto the snow covered lawn, and was met with another snowball to the face.  
  
"And he's hit with a bludger!" Octavia called.  
  
"We're in the same house!" Bellamy kneeled down and gathered snow in his hands, packing it tightly.  
  
He had Octavia in his sights - she was at a disadvantage, leaning in the snow to make another snowball - when a cold wetness hit him in the back of the neck, making him drop his snowball.  
  
Bellamy turned to see Clarke at the bottom of the porch steps, another snowball in her hand.  
  
"I feel so betrayed."  
  
Clarke grinned at him, tossing her projectile up and down in her hand. "Why? We're in different houses."  
  
Bellamy glanced out of the corner of his eye - Octavia was slowly advancing on them, but she shot him a look that told him all he needed to know.  
  
"I don't think you thought this through." He said, and Clarke's face falls a bit.  
  
"Shit." She said, and then threw the ball at him, hitting him square in the chest.  
  
And then it was all out war.  
  
It was a little hard to run with six inches of snow crunching beneath their boots, but the girls were quick.  
  
Clarke managed to get him in the back of the neck again, this time a chunk slipping down under his shirt. Octavia got her right in the butt. Clarke got her back with a huge one that had Octavia falling onto _her_ butt.  
  
And then Clarke was wide open and empty handed, completely defenseless. She didn't see him coming until it was too late.  
  
Clarke let out a shrill shriek as he wrapped his arms around her waist, picking her up and swinging her around in the air like a rag doll. He hadn't been counting on losing his footing though, and suddenly they were falling to the ground, Clarke landing on top of him.  
  
The snow provided padding though, so it didn't hurt as much. Clarke was laughing - but when he hooked his leg behind her, she stopped, her eyes going wide. And then he was flipping them over, his body pressing hers into the snow.  
  
Clarke's face was pink and flush from the cold, her lips bright red and her eyes darting from his eyes down to his lips.  
  
This was it. He could lean down and just - he could lean down and kiss her right now.  
  
Clarke's eyes widened at something over his shoulder though, and then a shout was ripping from her throat-  
  
Bellamy buried his face into her neck as Octavia dumped a bucket full of snow onto them.  
  
For all of Octavia's pushing - _now_ she just had to interrupt?  
  
"I am the champion!" He heard his sisters boots crunch up the porch steps. "And the champion deserves hot chocolate!"  
  
Bellamy pulled back just in time to see Clarke roll her eyes.  
  
She reached up and shook her fingers in his hair to get the snow out - and she spluttered as it fell onto her face.  
  
Bellamy laughed as he brushed her face clear.  
  
"When does she go back to Colorado?" Clarke asked, and Bellamy laughed again. "I don't think I can handle two Blake's for much longer."  
  
Bellamy sat back onto his knees, and then stood up, pulling her up with him.  
  
"Soon." He said, before slinging an arm around her hand leading them back into the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I have arrived back home in California but this one was written somewhere in New Mexico.
> 
> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	36. we'll figure it out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> December 29th, 2016

In true Blake fashion, Christmas was completely wiped from the house on the day before New Year's Eve.  
  
"New Years is New Years." Octavia explained, without much explanation.  
  
She also didn't do much to help - apparently her boyfriend Lincoln was back from his family's remote cabin, so they had a Skype date.  
  
But when Octavia asked Clarke to take Bellamy to the store or just, get out of the house for a bit, Clarke had a feeling that it was Skype something-else.  
  
Which is how they ended up at party city, getting stuff for their big New Year's bash that all their friends would be back to attend. They had a cart full of party poppers, plastic champagne flutes, those dorky 2017 glasses (Bellamy's insistence), and paper banners.  
  
Bellamy was inspecting the Disney Princess stuff when Clarke spotted the graduation stuff. And it suddenly hit her, truly hit her: she was graduating in May.  
  
Bellamy was graduating - from grad school - in May. _This_ May.  
  
"Fuck."  
  
"Yeah, fuck Snow White." Bellamy said, setting down some paper plates with that design on it. Clarke just blinked at him. Had she said that out loud? "Was - was that not what you meant?"

Clarke leaned forward so she could rest the head on her cart. "We're old."

She felt Bellamy's hand on her back, rubbing circles into her shoulder blades. "Yes, yes we are."

Clarke straightened up, and Bellamy's hand fell down her back. "We're _graduating_. What-" Clarke shook her head. "What are we going to do?"

Bellamy shrugged. "We'll figure it out."

"But what if we all get jobs in different places?" Clarke asked. Raven had already talked about this lab in upstate New York. Miller's dad was getting older, what if he moved back to be with him? And where he went, Monty went.  And Murphy and Emori - no one had seen them since Friendsgiving. They just said _roadtrip_ and left. God, she didn't even know what Jasper and Monroe and Harper were up to- "What if we don't have time anymore? And we can barely see each other."

"Hey, hey Clarke," Bellamy rubbed her shoulder, and it calmed her a bit.  " _We'll figure_ _it_ _out_ , okay? We'll make time."

She was having an existential freak-out in the middle of Party City, but he always knew what to do, what to say.

"We'll survive together, whatever life throws at us." He slung an arm of her shoulder, and led them and the cart down the aisle. "Besides we've got a whole 'nother month off before we really need to freak out. You're ahead of the game."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	37. can i kiss you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> January 1st, 2017

There’s that moment when you’re drunk, when you’re warm and fuzzy - and then it’s gone, at the snap of your fingers, it fades right out of you, and you suddenly feel drained, and sluggish, and probably regretful.

That’s how Clarke’s new year started - the clock struck midnight, the ball dropped, and all the tipsy dizziness disappeared out of her. There was cheering, and shouting, and party poppers - but Clarke felt the seconds tick by like a bomb counting down.

That’s how she ended up in the backyard, laying down on the wet grass, staring up at the stars. Not even the stars - the black spots between them, the emptiness.

She hadn’t realized she’d been hoping for something until it was too late, when it was clear it wasn’t happening. It’s hardly fair, but.

Clarke sighs and closely her eyes. The air is cold, her pants damp from the ground. She had lied down in a spot without snow, but it’s not like that helped much.

“There you are.”

Clarke opened her eyes to see Bellamy standing above her head, smiling down at her. He lays down next to her, his shoulder just brushing hers.

“I was wondering where you had gone off to.” He said, and Clarke turned her head to look at him.

He was looking up at the sky, and Clarke knew he wasn’t looking at the vast blackness, but at the stars - the constellations, the stories. But Clarke thought they were nothing compared to the one’s on his cheeks.

Clarke let out a breath, and turned back up towards the sky. “I am Atlas, the god of endurance, condemned forever to do so.”

“I shall carry the weight of the world on my shoulders, for it is my burden to bear,” Bellamy finished.

Bellamy’s hand took a hold of hers, and it was like a warm blanket around her. Bellamy was always warm - a fire, pure, pure life. She turned her head back to him, and he was already looking at her, his eyes boring into hers.

And then he spoke: “Can I kiss you?”

And then the world stood still, all the movement ceasing save for the pounding of her heart. She felt suddenly warm all over, caused by him but not by his touch.

“Midnight was a few minutes ago.” Is all she can come up with, because this can’t be happening, it feels unreal - that time has stopped in this moment, and in the next it will pick it up again and it would be as if this never happened.

“I know,” Bellamy said, a small smile gracing his face before it gets serious. His thumb is rubbing circles into the palm of her hand. “I didn’t want our first kiss to be for a gimmick.”

_our first kiss_

“Are you drunk?” Clarke asked, she had to make sure. She had to make sure that the universe wasn’t playing some cruel trick on her.

Bellamy laughed, easy, light. “I got a little liquid courage in me but - no, I wanted to be clear for this.”

She had dared to hope, without even realizing it. And then all her hope was shattered, but Bellamy - _Bellamy_ , _Bellamy_ , _Bellamy_ (she loved the way his name tasted on her tongue) - he always gave her hope. He always found away to guide her back to the light, even without realizing it.

She’s had all these Bellamy related feelings for so long. Feelings that made her cheeks heat up and her stomach flutter, her heart pound and her palms sweat. Feelings that made her cry and fret, that made her laugh and smile. Feelings that made her feel like she’d been born again. Feels that - that she didn’t know what the hell to do about it.

But now - now she did.

“Yeah,” Clarke said, as she released the breath she had been holding. “ _Yes_.”

And he looks at her, and he lights up, a bright torch in the darkness. His smile was so big that it would probably stick like that forever. His face had been inches from her already, but as he closed the space between them, it felt like miles were being crossed, like an eternity.

And it had been.

She keeps her eyes open because she’s afraid that this’ll all disappear, but at the first, gentle, press of his lips against hers, her eyes flutter shut - because this was real, _real_ , undeniably _real_.

Both of their lips are chapped, making the kiss coarse and rough but God it’s perfect. It’s more than she could have ever imagined - because it’s Bellamy. It’s _Bellamy_. It’s intense, but not like a forest fire, bringing destruction. It’s a low campfire, embers glowing and warming and simmering.  

Bellamy’s hand still clutches tightly onto hers, and his other one comes up to cup her cheek, his thumb stroking her sending a shiver down her spine. She can’t stop herself from bringing her free hand to tangle in hi shirt, or herself from smiling against his lips.

The kiss is slow, and sweet, and it feels like coming home.

_our first kiss_

They’re both smiling - so much so that they have to pull back, but he keeps his hand on her cheek, he keeps his forehead pressed against hers, their noses brushing. The cool air is jarring against her skin, but that doesn’t faze her.

Right now, Clarke Griffin could take on the world. She could hold up the sky for the rest of her life, and after, and be fine.

“Wow,” Bellamy said, his voice breezy, like she had taken his breath away (she knows he took hers).“I’m- I’ve wanted to do that for so long now.”

Clarke’s bites her lip, still smiling at the taste of him lingering on her. “Yeah?”

Bellamy licks his lips. “Yeah.”

Clarke can’t stop the laugh from bubbling up past her lips - it’s an exasperated laugh, a laugh that’s unbelieving, that’s fond, that’s everything. Her and Bellamy, they were one and the same. Complete messes, incompetent when it came to this sort of thing. But at least he got his head out of his ass now, because she doesn’t know if she’d ever.

“I…” Clarke shook her head, the smile was infectious, she couldn’t shake it. She couldn’t even form words, she was too full of joy to really think.

So instead she leaned forward again, and Bellamy eagerly responded. He deepened the kiss - their _second_ kiss - more than he had the first. The first was tentative, exploratory, mapping one of the few parts of themselves that were uncharted to one another. But this one, it was sure, grounded, confident.

Bellamy rolled his body over hers, pressing his weight over hers on the grass. They kept smiling, and laughing as the kiss fell apart and they strung it back together again, determined.

The world around them was dark and dim, but they were screaming color.

And all Clarke could think was _Bellamy_. All she felt, all she tasted, all she wanted, was: Bellamy, Bellamy, Bellamy. He was all consuming, in a way different than before. Better, but the same.

In the distance, Clarke could hear the last of the fireworks going off, crackles and booms. But that was nothing, nothing at all, compared to this - to him, to _them_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WHOMP THERE IT IS. Thank you for sticking with 36 chapters of pre-relationship and pining and almost kisses. Things 'be a changing.
> 
> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	38. i like your laugh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> January 1st, 2017

Bellamy wakes up to an ache in his back and a warm presence on top of him. He first registers that he's on the floor, the scratchy carpet rough on his elbows.  
  
Then he opens his eyes, and sees Clarke fast asleep on his chest.  
  
Can I kiss you?  
  
Despite being exhausted, a bright awake smile blooms across his face. He remembers everything. Kissing Clarke. Her kissing him back. Smiling and laughing and stumbling back into the house only to pass out on the living room floor like all their friends. Talking about everything and nothing at all until they both fell asleep.  
  
And she was still there when he woke up.  
  
Bellamy runs his fingers through her hair. A sleepy smile crosses Clarke's face as she burrows her face more into his chest, a small, content sigh easing out of her lips.  
  
He looks around - he's the first one up. His sister's on top of Raven on the couch. He sees Monroe's legs sticking out from behind the armchair that Harper's slouched in. Monty and Miller are over by the stairs, like they were trying to go back to Miller's room but never quite made it.  
  
But he, in the center of the floor with Clarke onto of him - that's the best seat in the house.  
  
His back really does hurt - and he really has to pee, but he doesn't want to disturb Clarke. She looks so peaceful, asleep on top of him. He keeps on gently carting his fingers through her hair, making her sigh, a noise that Bellamy loves and wants to hear again and again.

But apparently he's hungry too, because his stomach rumbles and that's enough to rise her from her sleep.

Clarke yawns, cute and high pitched like a kitten. She squints her eyes, craning her neck to look at him. She's got hair sticking out of the corner of her mouth. 

She's a beautiful, beautiful mess. 

Clarke blinks her eyes a few times, like she's trying to adjust to the light. She's basically a cat in the mornings, and it makes him chuckle against her hair.

Clarke hums contently. "I like your laugh," she says sleepily, dreamily - and then she's pressing her lips gently to his.

Her breath is stale with sleep, but his is probably no better. He wants to wake up like this every morning - Clarke in his arms. Maybe in a bed next time though.

 _Next time_.

"What time is it?" Clarke asks, a little more awake after she pulls back.

"No idea," Bellamy says, rubbing circles onto the small of her back. "We're the first one's up."

Clarke's eyes widen, and she looks around, like she hadn't realized they were surrounded by their sleeping friends.

"What to ditch them and go get brunch?" She asks, and Bellamy can't help but laugh again. She presses a kiss to his jaw this time. If she's going to keep doing that, he'll laugh all the time.

"Sounds great," Bellamy says, "but I have to go to bathroom first."

Quietly, Clarke gets off him and helps him up. It's a little odd - this thing they have, it's new but not really. It's not a mindfield, it's not a tightrope; it's not something on the verge of shattering, but on the verge of being reset. They'll talk about it later, when they're truly alone.

"I'll go find our shoes," Clarke says, giving his hand a squeeze. 

He cups her face in his hands, and kisses her properly. He's finally - _finally_ \- got up courage to do that, and now he's going to do it all the time.

He pulls back, and begins to head to the bathroom, but after a few steps he turns back and gives her another quick peck, and that gets a quiet laugh out of her.

"Piss already, I'm hungry," she says, smile bright and fond, with a slight shake of her head.

On his way to the bathroom, he sees the clock on the wall.

It's nine in the morning, and he's already completed his only New Year's resolution.

He had a feeling it was going to be a good year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	39. don't cry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> January 2nd, 2017

Once again, they find themselves alone together just after midnight. They’re sitting down sitting down on the back porch, and Bellamy can’t help but stare at the spot on the grass where he had first kissed her. It had snowed again, and it was covered now.

They still hadn’t talked about it. They’re friends had crashed their brunch just about when they were finally getting around to that. And they hadn’t been alone since then until now. There was an unspoken agreement between the two of them, an understanding that their friends shouldn’t know anything yet.

But Miller and Monty were upstairs asleep, same with Octavia. They’d be taking Octavia to the airport in the morning, she was heading back to school early. 

“ _ Bellamy _ .” Bellamy turns to Clarke, she’s not looking at him, but just out in the distance, a smile on her face. “ _ Bell-uh-me _ .” She turns to him then. “I’ve always loved the sound of your name.”

Bellamy ducks his head, a huge smile splitting his face. It’s been about twenty-four hours, and he’s never been so consistently overflowed with joy.

“ _ Sooooo _ ,” Clarke says then, bumping her shoulder against his. He puts his arm around her, and she snuggles into his side.

“So.” He really doesn’t know how to start this conversation either. Like if they say it outloud, it’ll vanish. But looking at Clarke now, he’s not worried. He clears his throat, “will you go out with me?”

Clarke laughs - which you know, isn’t the reaction he’s expecting.

“ _ Yes _ .” Clarke shakes her head. “I - we probably couldn’t have done this sooner, couldn’t we?”

Bellamy rubs her shoulder. “Probably, yeah, but we’re both disasters, so.”

“How do you think they’ll all react?” Clarke asks. “Raven’s been nagging me about jumping you for months.”

Bellamy snorts, but his face goes red. “Well, you should see the group chat they have about us?”

“ _ What _ ?” Clarke lets out an exasperated laugh. By the time he finishes explaining, she’s got her head in her hands, rubbing them over her face. “Our friends have issues.”

“Part of me just wants to keep this to ourselves, just a little while longer.”

“Me too but, I want to be able to touch you,” Clarke says, and Bellamy’s heart skips a beat. “Now that I can I won’t be able to stop myself.”

“You always could.” Clarke’s always stuck herself into his side, played with his hair, held his hand - in retrospect, yeah he could have done this a lot sooner, but he had to get his head out of his ass and shove his doubt down the drain.

It’s Clarke’s turn to snort. “You know what I mean. Plus - I’ve been trying to exhibit some restraint?”

“Some?” Bellamy grins. She’s been glued to him since Christmas. Clarke shoves him, and they lapse into a comfortable silence, just breathing each other in.

“You know, it’s going to be weird.” Clarke’s playing with the frays around the whole in his jeans. “Getting together and then me moving out.”

Bellamy freezes for a moment, and then remembers - yeah, Clarke doesn’t actually live with him. Oops. “We’ll screw the natural order of things,” he says, yawning, his voice getting high towards the end.

Part of him just wants to asks her to move in, right then and there, after just twenty-four hours. Cause it feels inevitable, and screw too soon - but it was probably for the best. If she moved in tomorrow, they’d be married by the end of the week.

(The fact that that doesn’t freak him out, but excites him -  _ that _ , should freak him out too, but it doesn’t).

“Don’t cry,” she teases.

Bellamy wipes at his eyes. “I’m just-” He yawns again. “ _ Tired _ .”

Clarke laughs, and stands up, holding her hand out for him. “Well, then let’s go to bed.”

They’ve shared a bed before but - it’s different now. Everything’s different, but it’s not at the same time.

They’ve both just don’t have anything holding them back anymore.

He takes her hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okay I think all the awkward DTRing is over now which is Great for me because it's so hard/annoying to write
> 
> Also, I'm not going to bump this up to an E rating, but I'm considering moving up to M? Not every chapter would be M, but still. So preferences/objections?
> 
> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	40. i made this for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> January 3rd, 2016

They hadn't told their friends. They had decided to see how long it would take them to notice the change.  
  
And for all their scheming and spying, it took them longer than they thought.  
  
It wasn't until she actually kissed him, in front of Miller, when they were dropping her off at her place the day before, when they finally caught on. Her phone had exploded within seconds:  
  
**Jasper:** IS THIS ACTUALLY HAPPENNG IS THIS SOME PRACAL JOKE MILLE SAW TOU 2 KISS?!?!? IS THI REAL LIFE OR IS THIS KUST FATANSY IM?!?!?  
  
**Monty:** You fucked up a perfectly good Jasper. Look at him. He's got feels.  
  
**Octavia:** YOU DIDNT TELL ME?!?  
  
**Raven:** FINALLY GIRL I WAS GOING TO RIP MY EYES OUT  
  
**Jasper:** MOM AND DAD ASDFGGHKLL;;  
  
**Monty:** you definitely broke him  
  
**Murphy:** I won the pool thanks

 **Miller:**  i think monroe did? i dont have the list on me

 **Harper:** monroe soooooo did

 **Murphy:** shit  
  
**Raven:** but have you fucked him yet that's the next question  
  
**Octavia:** RAVEN DONT ASK THAT IN THE GROUP CHAT AHDKAKAJSKR I DONT WANT TO KNOW  
  
**Murphy:** speak for yourself  
  
**Octavia:** I AM  
  
**Murphy:** I want to know if he's improved since high school  
  
**Octavia:** MURPHY NDJRISNF  
  
**Miller:** so when's the wedding?  
  
There's dozens of more texts. Most strings of key smashes and emojis and side conversations Clarke can't even begin to follow.  
  
"Clarke?" Bellamy's voice came from the doorway, along with the jingle of keys being put on the hook.  
  
"I'm in the kitchen!" Clarke calls back. She's elbows deep in the soapy sink doing dishes; she had forgot to wash the ones that had piled up before she had gone to the Blake's.  
  
"I made this for you." She looks over her shoulder at him. Frost on his glasses, snowflakes in his hair, a flannel that's too big even for him. He was all messy and sleepy and cute and hers.  
  
On the table he sets down a large plastic bag, and she smells eggs, and bacon, and hash browns.  
  
Bellamy's always a great cook, but his breakfasts - those were his best.  
  
"My hero." She feels a sure of affection for him, which has become a common occurance, a constant state, these past few days.  
  
Bellamy comes up behind her, sliding his arms around her waist and pulling her back against him. He buries his face into her shoulder, kissing at the juncture there.  
  
"Dishes can _wait_ ," he whines, rocking slightly.  
  
She leans her he lead back, craning her next so she can look at him. "I have two left."  
  
Bellamy groans, throwing his head back. "You've left me no choice."  
  
He leans down and kisses her, pulling her tighter against him. The angle's awkward, but she can already feel the heat, the desire to get lost in the kiss, in him; she can feel her grip on the glass she's washing loosen.  
  
So, he's playing dirty then.  
  
Two can play at that game.  
  
She sets the glass down in the sink, and gathers up as much suds as she can in her hands. She leans her head back just enough, and when she breaks the kiss - she flings the suds directly into his face.  
  
It surprises him enough that she can break free of his grasp.  
  
He takes his glasses off, which are completely covered in bubbles, and wipes a bunch off his forehead. He gives her an eerily calm look, and-  
  
"This means _war_."  
  
She gets this feeling in her stomach, this sinking feeling that makes her think she's going to regret this.

Shit.  
  
His hands dart into the sink, and Clarke bolts. He chases her around the table - shrieking as he flicks the bubbles at her. She throws a chair in his path, but it's no use - he's right behind her as she tears down the hall. She lands on her bed, and he crowds ontop of her - getting the soap all over her and the bed.

"Stop - stop," she says in between fits of giggles as she struggles to get him off. "Stop..."

They make eye contact - and immediately they slow, the only sounds being their heavy breathing and pounding hearts. She feels warm all over - his hot breath on her face, his thigh pressed between hers. His pupils are blown wide - his gaze flickering down to her mouth. They've gotten past their hesitation about kissing; this is something else entirely.

And then it's nothing at all.

He surges down just as she surges up - and it's hotter and messier and dirtier and needier than anything they've had before. She forgets about the suds, the only things she's able to think about right now are _Bellamy_ and _more_. Their hands are flying everywhere - hastily mapping each other's bodies, feeling the parts of each other they've never have before -

"Are you-" Bellamy says, between kisses down her neck that's got her gasping. "-sure about-" His hand is hot on her thigh that's hooked over him. "-this?"

He can't see her face right now, but Clarke's grinning like a madman. She quickly rolls them over so that's she's straddling him. She yanks off her shirt - she's not wearing a bra, and Bellamy's eyes go dark. He licks his lips.

"Does this answer your question?" Clarke asks - _yes_ , she could shout, because she wants him in every sense of the word - as she grinds down onto him.

His head falls back against the bed with a moan. His hands come up to her sides, and Clarke desperately wants them to go higher, higher-

And then he flips them back over, so fast that it takes her breath away. He presses her deep into the mattress, grinding his thigh between hers, his mouth hungry on hers, his hands rough on her breasts. 

She manages to get his shirt off. Then her pajama shorts. His pants - halfway before they remember he's got boots on.

Then there's nothing at all - just them, no more space between.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Probably sticking to T actually but who knows I am #indecisive
> 
> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	41. go back to sleep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> January 4th, 2017

Bellamy didn’t want to get out of bed, but he had to pee again. 

He and Clarke had practically spent all day in bed. The only time they left was when dinner arrived and they ate on the couch, watching a children's movie on mute and adding in their own dialogue. It was… it was just like things had always been, except more physical and the absence of crippling self doubt.

It was perfect.

Clarke, was perfect.

Clarke’s blinds don’t close all the way - he keeps saying he’ll fix them for her, but she’s stubborn - so slivers of moonlight peak through, and lay across the bed, across her body. She’s so beautiful, and it keeps blowing him away.

When he eases back down onto the bed, Clarke immediately rolls back into his side. She pillows her head onto his chest, lays a hand over his heart, hitches her leg over his. She sighs in her sleep, content. There’s a lock of hair caught in her smile. It’s everything and more.

“You’re like a space heater,” Clarke had said into his skin, before they had gone to bed, “like a fire place.”

He had laughed at that, and had pressed a kiss onto the crown of her head. 

“And you’re all mine,” was the last thing she had said, before she had falling asleep.

She was his too.

He runs his fingers through her hair, soft a flowing off her shoulders. It’s like run his fingers through sunlight, through golden silk. 

He wants to go to bed like this every night, and wake up like this every morning. At this point - screw not rushing things. Her lease is the only thing that’s keeping him from asking her to move in, after barely four days, to move in with him. He thinks it’s up in July - fuck, if it’s August he doesn’t know if he could wait that long.

“Go back to sleep.” 

Bellamy looks down: Clarke’s eyes are still closed, barely awake but enough so.

“ _Sleep_ , Bell.”

Bellamy smiles, and presses another kiss into her hair. He could sleep. She’d be there in the morning, and with him all through the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> By the by, I'm going to be in Europe for two months! Which means updates will probably be sparse (although I am going to get a lot of writing done on this 11+ hour flight I'm boarding in an hour!)
> 
> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)! I'm still screaming about the finale.


	42. is this okay?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> January 14th, 2017

Clarke keeps her promises. She prides herself on that, always keeping her word. Which means as much as she doesn’t want to go, she’ll keep her promise to her mother she made for missing Christmas and go to yet another boring charity gala. It shouldn’t be any different than the many others she’s gone too, except this time, Bellamy’s freaking out.

It was slightly better - because he was in a tux and just  _ oh god Bellamy in a tux  _ and they were almost late because she had backed him against the wall, kissing him hot and dirty. And then her mother had called and it killed the mood.

It also made Bellamy… jittery. Which is odd.

“Is this okay?” He asks, placing his arm around her waist. They’re over by one of the cocktail tables off to the side. They haven’t seen her mother yet, which Clarke is thankful for.

Clarke looks up at him with an arched eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t it be?”

“It’s just-” Bellamy stutters. He’s flustered, and it’s absolutely adorable. “Your mother. Does she…?”

Clarke snort turns into laughter, and she has to cover her mouth to calm herself when a stuffy old white dude shoots her a glare. Bellamy only looks increasingly worried. 

Clarke reaches up to cup his cheek. “Do you want to know a secret?”

“What?” He leans into her hand; he sounds slightly calmer.

“My mother has thought we’ve been dating since April.” Clarke says, and his eyes widen. “She’s already given you the seal of approval, so you have nothing to worry about.”

Bellamy tilts his head so he can press a kiss into her palm. “Was there no one that thought we were - I don’t know how to phrase it -  _ platonic _ ?”

Clarke laughs. “Us.”

“Yay us, then. Holding out.” His eyes catch on something behind her. “Speaking of your mother…”

Clarke turns around to see her mother walking toward her, but that’s not surprising - it’s the man on her arm that is.

After her mother greets her and Bellamy -  _ “This is my daughter, Clarke, and her boyfriend, Bellamy” _ \- she introduces him to the man she’s with: “Clarke, do you remember Marcus Kane?”

He looked familiar - but the name she knows. An old colleague of her mother and of Thelonius. She shakes his hand. “I hadn’t recognized you under that beard.”

Her mother shoots her a look, but Marcus laughs at that. “Sometimes I don’t either.” He turns to Bellamy. “Bellamy Blake? I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Clarke looks up at Bellamy as the two shake hands, he keeps his composure - but this is even a surprise to her. 

“I’m afraid to say I can’t same the same for you,” Bellamy says.

Marcus waves him off. “I only just moved back to town. Abby’s been kind enough to show me around, see what’s changed.”

Clarke arches an eyebrow at her mother, and she swears she sees color in her cheeks.

Oh. That is a new development. 

Clarke doesn’t know what to think about that.

“Everything okay?” Bellamy asks, later that night. They’ve managed to escape onto a balcony away from the crowd.

“Yeah,” Clarke sighs, and she means it, “I’m just - I never pictured my mother with anyone else, you know? Which is unfair of me, but. She’ll- she’ll give me the details when she’s ready. And I’m an adult. I’m fine with it.”

Bellamy hums in agreement, and rubs a hand down the skin of her back. Her dress is backless, and he’s been teasing at the edge all night. “What do you say we go find a broom closet…”

Clarke grins wickedly up at him. “I’ve been here a lot, I know a much better place.”

She kisses him quickly before taking his hand and pulling him back inside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	43. i picked these for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 1st, 2017

“Hey!” Bellamy calls, turning off the television as Clarke enters his house.

“I picked these for you.” Clarke says, holding out a bouquet of flowers for him. There’s tulips, and baby’s breath, and a bunch of other things he doesn’t know the name of. 

Bellamy takes them, they smell fresh and clean and kinda magical - Bellamy loves plants, okay? - and  he gives a sideways glance out the window. The ground was still covered in snow. “You picked these?”

Clarke grins. “Yeah, I picked them from my mother’s vase.” 

Bellamy laughs at that, and pulls her in for a kiss. It starts off sweet, meant to be a thank you - but Clarke’s hungry for more. She’s deepening it right away, and pulling herself into his lap. She grinds down onto him - and god, he’d fuck her right here on the couch if it weren’t for Miller upstairs.

“Happy one month anniversary.” Clarke says against his mouth, breath hot on his face. 

Bellamy gives her another quick kiss. “Happy one month anniversary.” He runs his hands up and down her sides. “As much as I want to keep doing this… I think you should look in the freezer.”

She pulls back to look at him better, and eyebrow raised. “Oh?”

She gets off him - and he’s already hard against the zipper of his jeans. As soon as she sees what’s in there he’s scooping her up and running upstairs.

“You got an ice cream cake!” Clarke says excitedly. “It’s from that place down on third too.”

Bellamy makes good on his promise to himself, and throws her over his shoulder - causing her to sqeuel.

“Were not going to eat it?” Clarke says through giggles.

“Later.” Bellamy says, as he takes the stairs too at a time.

“Will you two keep it down!” Miller yells from his room.

Bellamy kicks his door as he passes. “Put some headphones on!”

It’s their anniversary - they’ll be as loud as they want.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to see how many of these I could get done waiting to board and turns out the answer is three, thanks flight delay.
> 
> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	44. i'll drive you to the hospital

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 6th, 2017

Bellamy wakes up with a sharp pain on his right side. It only gets worse as the day goes on, but he doesn't leave work early. He can't afford to do that. It's probably nothing - slept at the wrong angle, pulled a muscle the other day or something. He takes a late lunch, and when he loses that, his boss finally forces him to go home.

Whatever is wrong with him, he probably shouldn't be driving. But thankfully nothing _goes_ wrong, and while he makes it home in one piece, he still feels like he's going to break into a million of them. He stares at the stairs, and just the thought of them is painful. He collapses onto the couch instead - just for a moment, so he can steady his breathing.

But the next thing he knows he's been shook awake. It's hazy, but he sees Clarke above him, saying his name worriedly. "

What time is it?" He's groggy - it's dark outside - which, it wasn't when he sat down.

"You never came over, or answered your phone so..." Oh right - he was going over to hers for dinner, so fuck, yeah he was out a while. And still in instead pain. Her hands stroke through the curls stuck to his forehead with sweat. "Jesus - Bellamy, you're burning up."

Bellamy groans and curls up more into himself. He's usually fine with pain - that cracked skull he had, breaking his leg back in high school, all those punches he's got from bar fights - but this is something else entirely.

"It hurts, Clarke." He croaks out. Any second feels like he's going to pass out again.

"Where does it hurt?" She tries to pull his his arms away from his stomach, and he protests but he's weak. She rucks up his shirt, and Bellamy hears her sharp intake of breath. "I'll drive you to the hospital."

Oh, fuck.

"Come on Bell, you need to get up." Clarke has to manhandle him to sit up, and he can't even imagine standing right now, just wants to lie back down.

"Hey," Clarke says grabs onto either side of his head, "Look at me - we need to go. I'm like, ninety percent sure you have appendicitis."

God fucking dammit.

It feels like a sword going through him every time he takes a step, but they make it to the car. Clarke's talking to him as she drives, trying to reassure him, to keep him distracted from the pain. But it's too sharp, and he passes out long before they make it to the hospital.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com/)!


	45. what do you want to watch?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 6th, 2017

Clarke has never used her mother's position, or power, or wealth to her advantage, ever - until now.  
  
The nurse at the front desk may just be doing her job, but damn her. If there was one thing she was certain about in this world, it was that Bellamy was family, that he was her _family_. And no lack of government approved official documentation of that fact was going to stand in her way. It's been _hours_ ; she needs to know how he's doing, she needs to se him, she needs-  
  
"Clarke?" Her mother is surprised when she bursts into her office in the administrative wing of the hospital. "What are you-?"  
  
"I need you to take me to see Bellamy," Clarke blurts out hurriedly, "the orderlies won't let me through, they won't tell me anything. I have no idea if he's okay." Clarke's voice cracks at the end.  
  
Her mother opens her mouth and then closes it again. She doesn't say a word, doesn't even ask, just leaves her office.  
  
Clarke follows. Her hands are shaking as she texts Octavia.  
  
The fatality rate of appendicitis is less than one fourth of one percent. The fatality rate of appendicitis is less than one fourth of one percent.  
  
 _She sees him, back in her car, head slumped against the window, sweat on his brow, pain contorted on his unconscious face._  
  
The survival rate of appendicitis is ninety-nine point six percent. The survival rate of appendicitis is ninety-nine point six per-  
  
"I need the medical report for a Blake, Bellamy." Clarke's head snaps up when her mother says his name.  
  
This desk nurse doesn't even bat an eye - she types away, bringing it up for her mother. Clarke's nails dig half-moons into her palms, trying with all her might for the printer to _print faster_. And then for her mother to _read quicker._  
  
Her mother's eyes widen slightly - she's probably reached the reason - and then she turns to Clarke.  
  
"Recovery room C on floor eight," her mother says, and is already heading in that direction, Clarke at her heals.  
  
 _Recovery room._  
  
 _Recovery._  
  
Clarke's hands are a little steadier as she shoots Octavia another text.  
  
The sound of her feet racing through the halls matches her pounding heart rate, loud sounds that suffocate her from all sides. How many white halls do they have to go down?  
  
She hears a nurses voice from down the hall. "Sir, I need you to-"  
  
And then she hears his - _"Where's my phone-?"_ \- and she's off running.  
  
"Clarke-" Her mother tries to call after her, but there's nothing that won't slow her down.  
  
She barges into the room, and the nurse jumps, and so does he-  
  
Bellamy's ragged, but he doesn't look like he's in agonizing pain like he was on the way over. His hair is a mess, he's sticky with sweat, unhealthy pale, even the bags under his eyes have bags - but he still manages to light up when he sees her.  
  
The nurse is not as pleased. "You can't be in here-"  
  
"She's fine, Ms. Cartwig."  
  
Both Bellamy and the nurses eyes widened when they saw Abby. The nurse looked between the two, closed her mouth into a tight line, and brushed past them in the doorway. Her mother follows the nurse out after squeezing Clarke's shoulder.  
  
And then she's in his arms.  
  
"Hey," Bellamy grunts out, "Ow, Clarke- I've got a hole in my side-"  
  
"Sorry," Clarke pulls back, loosening her grip, but doesn't let go of him. She wipes at her eyes, a little wet with tears. "You scared the shit out of me."  
  
"Well, sorry my organs exploded."  
  
If he wasn't in a hospital bed right now, Clarke would have punch him.  
  
"Still feeling the effects of the anesthesia?" Clarke asks, a slight hitch in her voice. She's so relieved now, that he's alright, but she's gotten so worked up her emotions are overflowing.  
  
Bellamy cups her cheek, wipes away the stickiness under her eyes. He leans in and kisses her, the gentle press of his lips against hers anchoring her to this earth.  
  
He pulls back at scoots over on the bed, holding his arms out for her. "Come here."  
  
Clarke's reluctant too at first, but she'll be on the opposite side of his stitches, and he needs her there just as much as she does. She tucks herself into his side. He smells like sweat and antiseptic.  
  
"What do you want to watch?" Bellamy asks, picking the remote up and turning the tiny hospital television on.  
  
"Anything's fine," Clarke sighs, and then looks up at him with a serious face. "Don't you ever do that again."  
  
Bellamy chuckles softly, then winces at the movement, "You don't need to worry about that, I only had one appendix."  
  
Clarke snorts, and then rolls her eyes when she sees that he's put on the history channel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. I'm still studying abroad, but in London now. Also like - I'm kinda unhappy with this story at the moment? Part of me thinks I shouldn't have got them together yet, but oh well.
> 
> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	46. you can go first

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 10th, 2017

Bellamy's completely sick of the hospital by the time he's ready to be released. He's always hated them - even more so, being _in_ them.

Clarke's been visiting every day though, which helps. Her mother even visited - if only to tell him that his stay has been covered, which-

Bellamy sighs heavily and slouches back into his bed, rubbing his eyes. "Jesus Christ," Bellamy mutters into his hand, " _Clarke_."

"Yeah?"

Bellamy startles and sits up to see Clarke in the doorway. " _Fucking_ \- you scared the shit out of me."

Clarke rolls her eyes, fondly. "Dork," she says, coming over to sit on the edge of the bed. "I brought you some clothes." Clarke holds up the pile. "Happy discharge day."

Bellamy snorts. "That sounds vaguely dirty to me."

Clarke smacks him on the shoulder - and when the laughter and teasing dies down, there's a moment of silence that feels tense, at least from his end.

_"Oh Dr. Griffin - the nurse hasn't given me my billing forms-?"_

_"Please, call me Abby." She said with a small smile. "And she won't be - it's been taken care of."_

Bellamy let out a breath. It's been eating away at him since he found out a few hours ago. He doesn't know exactly what that even means - or how he feels about it. 

"Clark-" Bellamy begins at the same time that Clarke says:

"I have to tell-"

Both of them snap their mouths shut and look at each other. There's that cute, embarrassed pink flush in Clarke's cheeks - and it only gets deeper when it happens again. And again.

Clarke lets out an exasperated breath. "You can go first."

Bellamy opens his mouth to speak.

_"What do you mean?" Bellamy asked. "Did Clarke do something?" Of course she did - did he even need to ask?_

_Dr. Griffin - Abby - rubbed at the crease in her brow. "Look, I told her you'd find out, but she didn't want you to know. She probably has a good reason..."_

 

"Can we get ice cream when we get out of here?" It's the first thing that comes to Bellamy's mind. A good reason, Dr. Griffin had said. He trusts Clarke, it can wait.

She even looks _relieved -_ he can see the tension in her shoulders ease. "Whatever the hell you want."

It isn't until Bellamy's all dressed that he remembers to ask: "Wait, what was it you wanted to tell me?"

Clarke's eyes are on Bellamy's shoulder as she dusts some lint off him. "Oh - it was nothing." She stands up on her tip toes to kiss his cheek. "Come on - you need a shower, you reek of antiseptic."

"Gee, thanks." Bellamy deadpans, slinging his arm around her shoulder as they leave his hospital room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	47. did you get my letter?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 14th, 2017

Sometimes Clarke would have moods where she'd shut herself away for hours and paint. Other times, she'd go on a cleaning spree that often made a bigger mess to begin with.

This was one of those times.

It was a way for her to lose herself, to be distracted, without any emotional output. It started off simple: she had a lot of dirty dishes. But then she needed to reorganize all the cabinets, and the floor was looking a little messy, and then the carpet in the living room, and then- 

"Clarke?"

Clarke jumped, the duster she was holding in her mouth clattering to the floor as she turned around.

"Bellamy?" She blurted out. "What are you doing here? Did you _drive_ here?" She rushed over to him, looking him over. She reached down to pull up the bottom of his sweater to check his side, but he just laughed and pushed it back down. "You should be resting-"

"Did you get my letter?"

"What?" Clarke blinked at him. "Letter?"

Bellamy laughed again, wincing a little. He looked around her apartment, which was in a greater state of disarray than when she began. "I'm going to take that as a no."

He went over to her coffee table, which was covered in mail she hadn't bothered to look at since he was hospitalized. She's sure there's some bills in there somewhere, probably a late one, but she couldn't even think about that.

Bellamy dug around the mess, eventually finding what he was looking for. He guided her to the couch, and handed her the letter. He kissed her on the forehead before standing up straight. "You read this, and I'm going to start putting things back in order."

"Bell-" Clarke started, but he waved her off.

Clarke examined the letter in her hands. It was a plain, crisp white envelope, Bellamy's scrawl across it - but he hadn't left a return address. The stamp was a Batman one, and that made Clarke smile.

She opened the envelope carefully, and slipped out the contents. It wasn't paper in there, but a photograph of the two of the two of them. It was them on his couch - she was asleep, head on his chest. Bellamy was looking down at her, smiling and lovingly, as he simultaneously flipped off whoever was taking the photo. There was a date in the corner of the photo, and it was from November 2016, before they were even together.

And Bellamy's face looking down on her then, looked more in love that she had ever seen.

She glanced up at the kitchen doorway. She could her him working in there, humming to himself.

Clarke flips the photo over, and there's the letter Bellamy was talking about.

 _Clarke_ ,

_Everyone is going to make fun of me, even you probably, for actually writing a letter like the senior citizen you all know I am, but I couldn't think of another way to do this._

_First, I wanted to say that I know you covered the medical expenses. I also know that it wasn't even that much, that I could have handled it without a problem, but you did it anyway. I was never mad, just confused about the fact that you didn't want me to know. But I trust you, and love you, and know you would have a good reason. I didn't figure it out until I talked to Miller after you left my house._

_When you love someone, you want to protect them, be there for them, in anyway you can. Sometimes they don't need to know the details, just the big picture._

_I have loved you for so long, and I don't want to wait anymore for some arbitrary date. If you want to, I want you to move in. We'll figure out what's left of your lease I just - I just want you to be the last thing I see before I go to sleep, and the first thing I see when I wake up. I want to build a life with you. I know you want that too, but if this isn't something you're ready for, I can wait. I'd wait forever._

_I love you,_

_Bellamy_

Clarke felt tears pricking at her eyes. She flipped the photo over again to look at the picture. Of her looking at peace in his arms, of him so full of love.

She has never met a person so full of love as Bellamy Blake.

Quietly, Clarke got up and tiptoed into the kitchen. Bellamy's back was towards her as he rumaged around the cabinets above the sink. 

She came up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist, burying her face into his back. 

"I want to build a life with you," Clarke said into his flannel, "I don't want to wait."

Bellamy's arms came down and settled over her arms. They stayed like for a while, just gently swaying, holding eachother.

They didn't want to wait, but they had all the time in the world.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to rot all of your teeth with sickening amounts of fluff. Dorks don't even realize it's Valentine's Day.
> 
> come hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


	48. i'll do it for you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> February 18th, 2017

Bellamy's usually a mess, a Grade A Human Disaster. But even with all that, he's never forgotten his sister's birthday before. Not once, not ever.  
  
And he didn't forget the date - it wasn't for a few more days - but he did forget to mail her her present. And wrap it. And buy it.  
  
And all of this on his first day back to work since his hospitalization.  
  
"Fucking shit fuck- fuck." Bellamy muttered out as he hoped on one foot while trying to get his shoe on.  
  
"Bell?" Clarke's bed head popped out from under the sheets, her voice still thick with sleep.  
  
"Shit - I'm sorry, did I wake you?" Bellamy said softly. He reached down and fixed a lock of her hair behind her ear that had previously been in her mouth.  
  
Clarke hummed and rutted her face against his hand. "S'okay," she said with a yawn, "What time is it?"  
  
Bellamy glanced over at the clock on the wall. "Uh, six am."  
  
Clarke groaned and laid back against the bed. "What the actual fuck, babe."  
  
Bellamy felt a grin spread across his face at word babe. Clarke only used it when she was scolding, or teasing, or exasperated. It was always more cute than threatening.  
  
"I've got work - more than usual, since I was out. I've got to go to the bank." Bellamy ran a hand through his hair. "I've got to get O her present and mail it today and get it out before the first collection-"  
  
"I'll do it for you." Clarke's words got increasingly high pitched as she spoke with another yawn, but the message was clear. "You wanted to get her that rock climbing harness right? I can get it on the way to Raven's."  
  
Bellamy leaned forward and pressed a firm kiss to her lips. Clarke gave a little squeak in surprise, and then a growl when he pulled away too soon. "You're the best, babe."  
  
"That's my thing," Clarke muttered, rolling over and smashing her face into the pillow. "Now give me five more minutes..."  
  
Bellamy chuckled and got up, sure to get ready a little more quietly this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> come and hang out over on [tumblr](http://bellakeyblake.tumblr.com)!


End file.
